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melodygatesauthor · 22 hours

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I can’t wait to hear what you think!!! I wrote it for the bois (and my love for a good queer ship).

Feeling You Can't Fight - Chapter Three

Not Beta Read - Masterlist - Pride Event Fic 🏳️‍🌈

Written for the @flightlessangelwings pride event - (Yes this was written for the 2023 pride event and I'm trying to finish it before pride 2024 I'M SORRY).

Summary (Entire Fic Summary)

After replacing the loathsome former staff manager of the National Art Gallery in London, you find yourself all too interested in one of your employees in particular. Manager and employee relationships aren't allowed, and even if they were, you aren't sure if the nervous gift shoppist would be interested in you anyway. There's only one way to find out...

Reader Inclusivity

Reader is not race coded, is a cis man, taller than MK by a few inches, British, ex military, has a big peen

Tags/Warnings (for entire series)

NSFW, writer is NOT from the UK so please be gentle, I did my best with UK terms and such, smut, anal sex, oral sex, anal creampies, cum eating, cum swallowing, rough sex, Marc has DID, reader has mild PTSD, PTSD symptoms, trauma responses, semi-public sex, praise kink, fluff, comfort, angst, romance, love, forbidden relationship (boss and employee), minor physical violence.

Word Count: 3.1k

“Wait love wait!”

The entire demeanor of the man in front of you changed into the sweet, caring man that you were smitten with. You let go of him, stepping back and looking down at him with a furrowed brow. You felt your heart racing as your fight or flight kicked in. Steven looked nervous as he stepped forward, pressing his palm to your broad chest.

“D-darling I…well…we have something we want to share with you and I thought that if we’re getting more serious then…no time like the present yeah?”

“Steven…what’s going on?” You were trying not to express your irritation with him, but your balled fists gave you away.

“M’gonna let Marc tell you everything but you have to promise not to hurt him, yeah?” Steven looked up at you, brows turned up and knitted together as he awaited your answer.

He gulped, rubbing your clothed pecks with his hand, smoothing out the wrinkles in your button-down. He tried smiling at you, biting his bottom lip. You didn’t like making Steven so frightened so you let out a deep exhale. If he wasn’t scared or in danger, then you didn’t need to be so on edge. You nodded slowly.

Steven let out a deep breath, “right then, gonna let him out now.”

You watched in awe as Steven’s eyes rolled back in his head and then his body changed again. He stood a little taller, and his expression appeared a little darker. The man breathed deeply, looking up at you before pulling his hand off your body as though he’d been burned. He averted his gaze. You could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks get a little more rosy.

“What the fuck is happenin’?” You asked in a serious tone.

“Look, I told Steven you weren’t ready for this conversation but he insisted we have it so…here we are. He said it was gettin’ serious with you and he didn’t want any more secrets between you two,” he cleared his throat nervously, “my name is Marc Spector.” The man shrugged, “I guess the easiest way to tell you is to just get it out there so…I have an identity disorder as a result of my childhood trauma.”

You both stood silently for a moment while you absorbed the information. You recalled your time in the British Armed Forces, and some of the horrific things you’d seen. Trauma caused the brain to do amazing things; Things that were difficult to explain sometimes. You understood trauma well. You looked at Marc’s face, seeing the seriousness behind his eyes. This wasn’t a game. This wasn’t some guy trying to mess with you, or pull a fast one on you. This was a man who had been through something horrible, or several horrible things, and it caused his mind to tear at the seams.

You nodded in understanding, “alright, yeah, I don’t know everything there is to know about identity disorders but, I’ve got some mental issues of my own mate, keep goin’.”

Marc nodded and exhaled in relief, “well, my…our mom…”

You put a hand on Marc’s shoulder, “s’fine, you don’t have to explain it t’me.”

“I…Steven, wants me to, he wants you to know, and he’s right…I need to be the one to tell you, because I’m the one who was there.” He looked away from you and at the floor, “our mom used to beat me, she hated me.”

You squeezed Marc’s shoulder gently. His head jolted up, glossed eyes meeting with yours. He shook his head, as though he were begging you not to make him continue.

“I meant what I said, and I’m talkin’ to Steven too…you don’t have to explain this t’me. I understand.”

“Fuck,” Marc said, turning away from you and covering his face in his hands.

I was awkward as hell to stand there while Marc cried, but you were glad he was getting it off his chest. You wondered if he’d ever shared this with anyone, or if it was only you. Either way, you knew he wasn’t sharing for his own sake, but instead for Steven’s, and you could respect that. When you look back now, you think that on the same day you met Marc, was the day you fell in love with him too, but you didn’t realize it yet.

“There’s another one too,” Marc looked at the water glass on the table.“Steven, I have to tell him.” You watched the - from your perspective - one sided conversation between Marc and Steven. “You didn’t want to keep this a secret but you want to keep him a secret? St–” Marc grumbled and then looked at you, “I’m telling you, even though Steven doesn’t want me to.”

“Tellin’ me what?”

“Jake is the third one of us. You may never meet him, but he’s here nonetheless,” Marc let out a sharp exhale, “We don’t really see him much either, but…the three of us get along…kinda.”

“Well, if he’s part of Steven’s life, then I look forward to meeting him,” you gave Marc a kind smirk.

You watched Marc’s entire body language change. It wasn’t like before when he switched from Steven to himself, but instead, it looked like his entire body relaxed with your reassurance. Marc looked like he might collapse and start crying again right then and there. You wondered when the last time he’d talked to someone about this was…if he’d ever talked to someone about this.

“Damn. That was…easier than I thought. You took that surprisingly well,” he said, giving you a tight lipped smirk.

“Had a boatload of therapy,” you shrugged, “I learnt long ago that you can’t really tell how the mind is gonna deal with trauma.” You thought now was as good a time as any to change the subject, seeing that Marc was getting uncomfortable again. “So are you…do you like…” you pointed to yourself. Of course you would hop from one uncomfortable topic to another.

Marc’s eyes shot wide once he realized what you were suggesting, “no, no, I like women, one hundred percent.”

Marc crossed his arms and cleared his throat nervously.

“But this, Steven and me, that doesn’t bother you?” You asked.

“Oh, oh, no. Steven’s happy, and the way I see it, that’s the only thing that matters,” Marc’s lips managed to curl into a smirk.

You could tell he cared about Steven, and so the two of you had that much in common, but that wasn’t the last time you saw Marc. You saw him again when you and Steven got into your first argument. It wasn’t anything serious, but it seemed to upset Steven enough to force him into the headspace.

The argument was stupid, and if you were being honest, it was a little funny. Steven walked into your office one afternoon, closing the door behind himself. He was stammering, as he often did when he was thinking about what he wanted to say faster than the words could come out. You chuckled, standing up and walking over to him, cupping his face.

“S’alright love, just tell me what’s wrong,” you brushed your thumb over his stubbled cheek.

“Gettin’ fed up with Linda not pickin’ up her mess in the break room,” Steven groaned, “I know s’not a big deal, not really, but I told her three times to pick up after herself and she still acts like a right slob.”

“Steven, that’s not really somethin’ I deal with,” you said as he huffed out a frustrated breath.

“I know, sometimes I just want to complain a bit, yeah?”

“C’mere,” you said, motioning with your finger.

He walked back over to you and pressed his face into your chest, “I’m irritated.”

You wrapped your arms around him, “I know darling,” you pushed him back at arm’s length, but I know something that might help.”

Steven had joked about wanting to blow you under your desk, but he’d never actually done it yet. In fact, he hadn’t blown you before at all. He acted like you were doing him a favor when you sat down in your big office chair with your legs spread out and his face between them. The way his eyes went wide with excitement and he started drooling you would’ve thought he was the one getting a blowjob.

He looked hungry, fumbling with the button and then the zipper of your pants as he released your cock from its confines. He always - always - made a comment about how big you were. His eyes crossed as your dick lined up between them, and he seemed breathless despite not yet having done anything at all.

“Steven, darling, might be too big f’you to fit in your mouth, it’s alright if you don’t want to.”

He looked up at you, putting a hand on either of your thighs.

“I want to,” he said softly.

Steven licked a stripe up your length, forcing your cock to twitch in response. You grabbed the arms of your chair as he repeated the gesture. You bucked your hips upward involuntarily. Steven giggled and looked up at you.

“Ooh, needy…” He wrapped his fingers around your girth, pumping up and down slowly, “you’re a bit leaky too love.”

“Are you gonna keep teasin’ me, or are you gonna be a good boy and take this thing like you were made to?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Steven nodded with a shaky breath, smile fading at your words. You felt bad being so verbally rough with him sometimes, but you knew he enjoyed it. Whenever the two of you were in bed together it was like flipping a switch, making him hard in an instant. You slid down further in your chair, moving one of your hands to the back of his curly head.

He licked up your length again before taking the head in his mouth. You shuddered seeing Steven’s lips stretched around your fat dick. It seemed like he really was made to take it, sliding over the length as though his gag reflex was nonexistent. You exhaled sharply, feeling the way his tongue rolled over the underside of your shaft.

“Oh god Steven, takin’ me so well love, that’s it, just like t-that,” you pushed him down over you even more, “you tap my knee if it’s too much darling, don’t wanna hurt you.”

You felt his throat contract around you. There was still more to go, and you wanted nothing more than to see your entire dick disappear inside his precious mouth. You brushed a thumb over his cheek.

“Relax your throat, Steven, open up f’me,” you felt his muscles relax and you were able to push in further. “That’s it, that’s my good boy.”

Steven moaned over your length as he started bobbing his head in a delicious rhythm. He took one hand off your thighs and you heard the clank of his belt while he started freeing his own cock. The sound of him jerking himself could just barely be heard over the sound of him choking on your dick.

He looked up at you with affectionate and tear glossed eyes when you carded your hand through his hair. You bit your bottom lip and started rolling your hips slowly forward into his mouth, brushing your pubes against his nose as he took every single inch you had to offer.

“Steven, you sure you’ve never done this before?” Your entire body trembled, “s-so good…”

You heard the distinct sound of footsteps approaching the door. You both froze.

“Steven, you locked the door, yeah?”

Steven, in fact, hadn’t locked the door.

Steven made himself as hidden as he could in the space under your desk, where the intruder wouldn’t be able to see him. You rolled up as close as you could get without crushing him in there. John, your boss, walked in, smiling big. He stepped over, putting a hand on the varnished surface of the desk, leaning in to talk to you.

“Hey! Just stoppin’ in to tell you I think you’re doin’ great, and those reports you sent me yesterday…perfect.” He patted your shoulder and you jumped in response.

You felt Steven between your legs trying to put your cock back in your pants, but struggling given its current…state. You were close before while he had it buried in his throat, and that hadn’t changed in the seconds that had gone by. You were still close, and him moving it around wasn’t helping that issue. You kept your eyes on John, but tried like hell to push Steven’s hands and face away from you, but to no avail.

“Well I’m…oh…” you cleared your throat, “I’m glad you l-liked them.”

Steven didn’t get the hint, he was still sliding his hand over your length, trying to get it back inside your boxers. You couldn’t try very hard to stop him, or it would be obvious you were trying to do something under your desk, so you stopped trying, and just hoped that John would leave before…oh god.

You slammed your hand on the desk, “f-fuck!”

To John, you must’ve looked insane, like you were staring at him wide-eyed and shouting for no apparent reason. To you and Steven, you were coming, hot ropes of your spend hitting your boyfriend in the face under the desk. You managed to keep yourself from saying anything too telling, and you kept your breathing level…as level as you could.

“Fuck I forgot to sign the agreement for the…the uhhh–”

“Oh! For the new display going into the Ancient Egypt section of course! I’ll go get that right now!” John chuckled, “glad you remembered that, I’ll be right back.”

As he walked out, you rolled back in your chair to see Steven’s pretty face covered in globs of your spend. He looked pissed off, crawling out from under the desk and grabbing a few tissues from your desk to clean himself off.

“Darling, what’s wrong? You’re the one who–”

“You…did this…all over my face!”

“Love, I couldn’t help it, you kept touchin’ me and–”

“And,” he held a finger up, “and you could’ve locked the door before havin’ me do that in the first place!”

“Steven, you could’ve locked the door yourself when you walked–”

“I wasn’t plannin’ to come in here and do somethin’ like that now was I?”

You could see the embarrassment in his flush cheeks. He seemed exasperated, chest rising and falling with every heavy breath. He wasn’t really mad at you, but you doubted you’d be getting another ‘under the desk’ blow job any time soon.

“Now your boss knows what we were doin’ and he’s gonna make you fire me and maybe he’ll even fire you and–”

“Stop…” you cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead.

“No!” he pushed you off of him, “no, m’not gonna let you just kiss this one away. We could’ve been caught, you’re reckless and this isn’t like me at all! I don’t do things like this!” Steven stormed out of your office, passing John on his way out.

That was it…that was the argument.

You supposed that with Steven never having really been in a relationship before, an argument with his first ever significant other could be upsetting, despite it being such a silly thing to argue over. Taking that into consideration, you decided to tread lightly when you got home, toeing off your shoes in the entryway of his flat when you arrived almost silently. That’s when you noticed that Marc was there, not Steven.

“Hey,” he said, tipping back the beer in his hand and then holding it up, “want one?”

You shook your head, “no thanks.”

It was like Steven had a roommate. At least…that’s how it felt. Marc was the more stern one, like he was the polar opposite of Steven, but you didn’t mind. You liked the company regardless. Marc was a good guy, you could just tell. After a couple of minutes talking about the weather, the two of you managed to get into something more serious.

“You said you’ve been to therapy? Mind if I ask what for?” Marc took another swig of his beer.

“Uh, PTSD, spent a few years in the British Armed Forces and then got myself honorably discharged after…” you sniffed out a laugh, “maybe I will take that drink after all.”

After a few drinks, you and Marc were trading war stories and with it, your tales of trauma. You wondered how long it was going to take him to open up to you about why and how Steven came to be, but there Marc was, letting down his always stoic demeanor in order to open himself up to you.

He cried, and you opened your arms to him.

“No, no I told you I’m not…that’s not my thing…”

You laughed, “s’not a ‘thing’ to hug someone when they’re sad, Marc. C’mere…”

You tugged his jacket and pulled his rigid frame into your arms, wrapping them around him tightly. At first he was stiff, still mumbling some protests, but then you felt him exhale, like his entire body were a balloon being emptied of the air inside of it. That’s when the heavier sobs came, tears spilling out of his eyes and onto your forearm.

“Steven is so good, and sometimes I think it would just be best if I don’t ever come out. Sometimes I think that the world would be a better place without me in it,” he said between heavy cries. He looked up at you, “Steven could be happy, and be with you all the time and–”

“Steven would miss you, Marc,” you looked into his eyes, seeing the pain he felt just made you want to hold him closer, but you knew that would only make it more awkward.

You didn’t have to worry about feeling awkward though, because he leaned up and slotted his lips over yours all on his own. You pulled back in surprise, wondering if he did that by mistake or not, or if Steven had decided to come back when you didn’ notice.

“S-Steven?” You asked, looking between his eyes rapidly.

He shook his head, “no, still me,” he said breathlessly, looking down at your mouth before pulling you in again.

You smiled against his lips, “how unexpected.”

Moon Knight Masterlist

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#moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector

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The Oscar Isaac Collective Masterpost

#oscar isaac hernandez estrada #oscar isaac fandom #coffee & cream fanzine #coffee & cream fanzine spotlights #oscar isaac

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Hehehe so glad you liked it <3

Feeling You Can't Fight - Chapter Three

Not Beta Read - Masterlist - Pride Event Fic 🏳️‍🌈

Written for the @flightlessangelwings pride event - (Yes this was written for the 2023 pride event and I'm trying to finish it before pride 2024 I'M SORRY).

Summary (Entire Fic Summary)

Reader Inclusivity

Reader is not race coded, is a cis man, taller than MK by a few inches, British, ex military, has a big peen

Tags/Warnings (for entire series)

Word Count: 3.1k

“Wait love wait!”

“D-darling I…well…we have something we want to share with you and I thought that if we’re getting more serious then…no time like the present yeah?”

“Steven…what’s going on?” You were trying not to express your irritation with him, but your balled fists gave you away.

“M’gonna let Marc tell you everything but you have to promise not to hurt him, yeah?” Steven looked up at you, brows turned up and knitted together as he awaited your answer.

Steven let out a deep breath, “right then, gonna let him out now.”

“What the fuck is happenin’?” You asked in a serious tone.

You nodded in understanding, “alright, yeah, I don’t know everything there is to know about identity disorders but, I’ve got some mental issues of my own mate, keep goin’.”

Marc nodded and exhaled in relief, “well, my…our mom…”

You put a hand on Marc’s shoulder, “s’fine, you don’t have to explain it t’me.”

You squeezed Marc’s shoulder gently. His head jolted up, glossed eyes meeting with yours. He shook his head, as though he were begging you not to make him continue.

“I meant what I said, and I’m talkin’ to Steven too…you don’t have to explain this t’me. I understand.”

“Fuck,” Marc said, turning away from you and covering his face in his hands.

“Tellin’ me what?”

“Well, if he’s part of Steven’s life, then I look forward to meeting him,” you gave Marc a kind smirk.

“Damn. That was…easier than I thought. You took that surprisingly well,” he said, giving you a tight lipped smirk.

Marc’s eyes shot wide once he realized what you were suggesting, “no, no, I like women, one hundred percent.”

Marc crossed his arms and cleared his throat nervously.

“But this, Steven and me, that doesn’t bother you?” You asked.

“Oh, oh, no. Steven’s happy, and the way I see it, that’s the only thing that matters,” Marc’s lips managed to curl into a smirk.

“S’alright love, just tell me what’s wrong,” you brushed your thumb over his stubbled cheek.

“Steven, that’s not really somethin’ I deal with,” you said as he huffed out a frustrated breath.

“I know, sometimes I just want to complain a bit, yeah?”

“C’mere,” you said, motioning with your finger.

He walked back over to you and pressed his face into your chest, “I’m irritated.”

You wrapped your arms around him, “I know darling,” you pushed him back at arm’s length, but I know something that might help.”

“Steven, darling, might be too big f’you to fit in your mouth, it’s alright if you don’t want to.”

He looked up at you, putting a hand on either of your thighs.

“I want to,” he said softly.

“Ooh, needy…” He wrapped his fingers around your girth, pumping up and down slowly, “you’re a bit leaky too love.”

“Are you gonna keep teasin’ me, or are you gonna be a good boy and take this thing like you were made to?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh god Steven, takin’ me so well love, that’s it, just like t-that,” you pushed him down over you even more, “you tap my knee if it’s too much darling, don’t wanna hurt you.”

You felt his throat contract around you. There was still more to go, and you wanted nothing more than to see your entire dick disappear inside his precious mouth. You brushed a thumb over his cheek.

“Relax your throat, Steven, open up f’me,” you felt his muscles relax and you were able to push in further. “That’s it, that’s my good boy.”

“Steven, you sure you’ve never done this before?” Your entire body trembled, “s-so good…”

You heard the distinct sound of footsteps approaching the door. You both froze.

“Steven, you locked the door, yeah?”

Steven, in fact, hadn’t locked the door.

“Hey! Just stoppin’ in to tell you I think you’re doin’ great, and those reports you sent me yesterday…perfect.” He patted your shoulder and you jumped in response.

“Well I’m…oh…” you cleared your throat, “I’m glad you l-liked them.”

You slammed your hand on the desk, “f-fuck!”

“Fuck I forgot to sign the agreement for the…the uhhh–”

“Oh! For the new display going into the Ancient Egypt section of course! I’ll go get that right now!” John chuckled, “glad you remembered that, I’ll be right back.”

“Darling, what’s wrong? You’re the one who–”

“You…did this…all over my face!”

“Love, I couldn’t help it, you kept touchin’ me and–”

“And,” he held a finger up, “and you could’ve locked the door before havin’ me do that in the first place!”

“Steven, you could’ve locked the door yourself when you walked–”

“I wasn’t plannin’ to come in here and do somethin’ like that now was I?”

“Now your boss knows what we were doin’ and he’s gonna make you fire me and maybe he’ll even fire you and–”

“Stop…” you cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead.

That was it…that was the argument.

“Hey,” he said, tipping back the beer in his hand and then holding it up, “want one?”

You shook your head, “no thanks.”

“You said you’ve been to therapy? Mind if I ask what for?” Marc took another swig of his beer.

“Uh, PTSD, spent a few years in the British Armed Forces and then got myself honorably discharged after…” you sniffed out a laugh, “maybe I will take that drink after all.”

He cried, and you opened your arms to him.

“No, no I told you I’m not…that’s not my thing…”

You laughed, “s’not a ‘thing’ to hug someone when they’re sad, Marc. C’mere…”

“Steven would miss you, Marc,” you looked into his eyes, seeing the pain he felt just made you want to hold him closer, but you knew that would only make it more awkward.

“S-Steven?” You asked, looking between his eyes rapidly.

He shook his head, “no, still me,” he said breathlessly, looking down at your mouth before pulling you in again.

You smiled against his lips, “how unexpected.”

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #comment reblog

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melodygatesauthor · 6 days

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OSCAR ISAAC FEATURE-LENGTH LIVE-ACTION FILMOGRAPHY (2002- )

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melodygatesauthor · 6 days

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Feeling You Can't Fight - Chapter Three

Not Beta Read - Masterlist - Pride Event Fic 🏳️‍🌈

Written for the @flightlessangelwings pride event - (Yes this was written for the 2023 pride event and I'm trying to finish it before pride 2024 I'M SORRY).

Summary (Entire Fic Summary)

Reader Inclusivity

Reader is not race coded, is a cis man, taller than MK by a few inches, British, ex military, has a big peen

Tags/Warnings (for entire series)

Word Count: 3.1k

“Wait love wait!”

“D-darling I…well…we have something we want to share with you and I thought that if we’re getting more serious then…no time like the present yeah?”

“Steven…what’s going on?” You were trying not to express your irritation with him, but your balled fists gave you away.

“M’gonna let Marc tell you everything but you have to promise not to hurt him, yeah?” Steven looked up at you, brows turned up and knitted together as he awaited your answer.

Steven let out a deep breath, “right then, gonna let him out now.”

“What the fuck is happenin’?” You asked in a serious tone.

You nodded in understanding, “alright, yeah, I don’t know everything there is to know about identity disorders but, I’ve got some mental issues of my own mate, keep goin’.”

Marc nodded and exhaled in relief, “well, my…our mom…”

You put a hand on Marc’s shoulder, “s’fine, you don’t have to explain it t’me.”

You squeezed Marc’s shoulder gently. His head jolted up, glossed eyes meeting with yours. He shook his head, as though he were begging you not to make him continue.

“I meant what I said, and I’m talkin’ to Steven too…you don’t have to explain this t’me. I understand.”

“Fuck,” Marc said, turning away from you and covering his face in his hands.

“Tellin’ me what?”

“Well, if he’s part of Steven’s life, then I look forward to meeting him,” you gave Marc a kind smirk.

“Damn. That was…easier than I thought. You took that surprisingly well,” he said, giving you a tight lipped smirk.

Marc’s eyes shot wide once he realized what you were suggesting, “no, no, I like women, one hundred percent.”

Marc crossed his arms and cleared his throat nervously.

“But this, Steven and me, that doesn’t bother you?” You asked.

“Oh, oh, no. Steven’s happy, and the way I see it, that’s the only thing that matters,” Marc’s lips managed to curl into a smirk.

“S’alright love, just tell me what’s wrong,” you brushed your thumb over his stubbled cheek.

“Steven, that’s not really somethin’ I deal with,” you said as he huffed out a frustrated breath.

“I know, sometimes I just want to complain a bit, yeah?”

“C’mere,” you said, motioning with your finger.

He walked back over to you and pressed his face into your chest, “I’m irritated.”

You wrapped your arms around him, “I know darling,” you pushed him back at arm’s length, but I know something that might help.”

“Steven, darling, might be too big f’you to fit in your mouth, it’s alright if you don’t want to.”

He looked up at you, putting a hand on either of your thighs.

“I want to,” he said softly.

“Ooh, needy…” He wrapped his fingers around your girth, pumping up and down slowly, “you’re a bit leaky too love.”

“Are you gonna keep teasin’ me, or are you gonna be a good boy and take this thing like you were made to?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh god Steven, takin’ me so well love, that’s it, just like t-that,” you pushed him down over you even more, “you tap my knee if it’s too much darling, don’t wanna hurt you.”

You felt his throat contract around you. There was still more to go, and you wanted nothing more than to see your entire dick disappear inside his precious mouth. You brushed a thumb over his cheek.

“Relax your throat, Steven, open up f’me,” you felt his muscles relax and you were able to push in further. “That’s it, that’s my good boy.”

“Steven, you sure you’ve never done this before?” Your entire body trembled, “s-so good…”

You heard the distinct sound of footsteps approaching the door. You both froze.

“Steven, you locked the door, yeah?”

Steven, in fact, hadn’t locked the door.

“Hey! Just stoppin’ in to tell you I think you’re doin’ great, and those reports you sent me yesterday…perfect.” He patted your shoulder and you jumped in response.

“Well I’m…oh…” you cleared your throat, “I’m glad you l-liked them.”

You slammed your hand on the desk, “f-fuck!”

“Fuck I forgot to sign the agreement for the…the uhhh–”

“Oh! For the new display going into the Ancient Egypt section of course! I’ll go get that right now!” John chuckled, “glad you remembered that, I’ll be right back.”

“Darling, what’s wrong? You’re the one who–”

“You…did this…all over my face!”

“Love, I couldn’t help it, you kept touchin’ me and–”

“And,” he held a finger up, “and you could’ve locked the door before havin’ me do that in the first place!”

“Steven, you could’ve locked the door yourself when you walked–”

“I wasn’t plannin’ to come in here and do somethin’ like that now was I?”

“Now your boss knows what we were doin’ and he’s gonna make you fire me and maybe he’ll even fire you and–”

“Stop…” you cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead.

That was it…that was the argument.

“Hey,” he said, tipping back the beer in his hand and then holding it up, “want one?”

You shook your head, “no thanks.”

“You said you’ve been to therapy? Mind if I ask what for?” Marc took another swig of his beer.

“Uh, PTSD, spent a few years in the British Armed Forces and then got myself honorably discharged after…” you sniffed out a laugh, “maybe I will take that drink after all.”

He cried, and you opened your arms to him.

“No, no I told you I’m not…that’s not my thing…”

You laughed, “s’not a ‘thing’ to hug someone when they’re sad, Marc. C’mere…”

“Steven would miss you, Marc,” you looked into his eyes, seeing the pain he felt just made you want to hold him closer, but you knew that would only make it more awkward.

“S-Steven?” You asked, looking between his eyes rapidly.

He shook his head, “no, still me,” he said breathlessly, looking down at your mouth before pulling you in again.

You smiled against his lips, “how unexpected.”

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melodygatesauthor · 7 days

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~ Moderator Spotlight ~

Everyone meet Melody Gates!

Project Manager, Lead Moderator, Graphic Designer, Art/Writing Moderator, Writing Contributor and Art Contributor

She's been writing for the Oscar Isaac fandom since 2022 and is the founder of the Oscar Isaac Collective! Their favorite Oscar character is Jake Lockley, and her cafe beverage of choice is a hot white mocha.

"Spearheading this project, the Coffee & Cream Digital Fanzines, isn't something I thought I'd be doing when I first dipped my toes into the fandom. I'm more excited than ever to be putting together such a memorable project with so many of my close friends and fellow mutuals within the fandom that brought us all together. It might be only for us, but this feels a little like fandom history in the making (not to sound cocky lol, I'm just excited)." - Melly <3

You can find Melody Gates here on Tumblr @melodygatesauthor and on Archive Of Our Own

Back to Mod and Contributor Masterlist

Coffee & Cream Masterpost

The Oscar Isaac Collective Masterpost

#oscar isaac fandom #oscar isaac hernandez estrada #coffee & cream fanzine #coffee & cream fanzine spotlights

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melodygatesauthor · 7 days

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The Dark Side of the Moon - Chapter 11: No Better Fate

Vampire Marc Spector X f!Reader

Beta Read by @xbellaxcarolinax - Masterlist - AO3

Chapter Summary

Marc has to pay the consequences for his actions...

Tags/Warnings (for entire fic)

Major Tags/Warnings Major Character Death - Non-con - Dub-con - Violence Minor Tags/WarningsNSFW, smut, Khonshu is human turned vampire, Ammit is human turned vampire, sex with characters other than the main pairing (Marc X f!Unnamed Character - Khonshu X f!Reader), p in v creampie, furniture grinding, scent kink, blood kink, vampire/human relationship, blood drinking, rough sex, oral sex, coming untouched, coming in pants, panty sniffing, angst, fluff, smut, forbidden relationship, secret relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, Marc does NOT have DID Dead Dove Do Not Eat - This means that what you see in the tags is what you get in the fic. If you read the tags and see "non-con" and then see non-con in the fic, don't be surprised!

Word Count: 2.4k

Marc could tell something had changed from the time you’d all left Ammit’s home and now as he was getting out of the van he’d been restrained in. You looked different, the way you carried yourself, and the way you looked at him. Was that hatred in your eyes? Were you scared? What were you thinking about? He couldn’t tell, and with the gag in his mouth, he couldn’t ask you either.

That was the only chance he had to look at you before he was dragged away, still trying to wriggle free from his restraints uselessly. Khonshu must’ve told you something, something that would make you hate Marc even more than you already should’ve from day one. So he stopped fighting, giving in to his fate. You would be alright, he decided, knowing that, despite Khonshu holding you captive, you were well cared for. You wouldn’t starve, and you’d be kept out of harm’s way, so Marc didn’t need to fight for anything anymore.

The thirst room was probably the best place for him. In there he wouldn’t put you in anymore danger with his incessant need to have you. He wouldn’t be so tempted to whisk you away from there, risking both of your lives in the process. By the time Khonshu’s other men had brought Marc to the door of the thirst room, he’d signed himself over to his fate, agreeing that this was a good outcome for everyone involved.

He deserved it.

You deserved better.

Marc only wished that he’d been able to kiss you one more time before he was thrown in there, that he could’ve told you how you really made him feel. In his many, many, years of life, he’d never had anyone make him feel less alone and more alive. He loved you, and he never had the chance to tell you that. Again, he thought, that’s probably for the best. If he’d admitted that to you, you might’ve done something dumb, and irrational in an attempt to stop Khonshu from doing this.

Marc stepped into the thirst room, his restraints were removed along with his gag before the door was slammed in his face. Before his eyes, just like the last time he was condemned to that room, the only door in and out of it disappeared, leaving him secluded with nothing but the four white walls that surrounded him, and a dim light overhead.

The worst part about the thirst room, according to Marc, is the inability to tell the time. He wondered if others would agree, but for him, knowing how much time he’d suffered on Earth was important. Not to mention, the last time he was in there, his mind was the first thing to go. It only took a week before he felt like ripping his skin off in an attempt to fight the boredom.

The first time he was in the thirst room was different though He was in there over a minor offense, of which he had no control. This time however, he deserved everything that was happening to him. He knew the rules, he broke the rules, and now he suffered the consequences. This time, he was willing to accept the fate that he was given, so the mental suffering wasn’t unbearable. He almost strangely felt at peace.

Marc thought about things he hadn’t recollected in a while. He remembered his childhood, the memories of his brothers still playing out in his mind. He wondered if they were still alive, and if they were, did they ever think of him? The last time Marc had seen Jake he was in New York City, while Khonshu had brought a caravan to the northeast for business, though he couldn’t remember now if it was 1936 or 1937.

“Marc?” Marc could still hear Jake’s gruff voice clear in his mind. “Hermano?!”

Marc had looked at Jake, eyes wide, breath catching in his lungs. His family was supposed to think he was dead, that was part of the deal. Khonshu saved him, and he would serve Khonshu forever, and Marc would be forced to commit social suicide. He’d done all that, so Marc imagined now that Jake probably thought he was seeing a ghost.

That’s what got Jake shot, a bullet through his chest, right in the center. It was Marc’s fault. If Jake had died that night, it would be the second time he’d watched a brother die, and the second time he’d be stuck with the guilt that came with causing his sibling’s death. Marc made quick work of the shooter, wiping him off the face of the world faster than the man could comprehend what was happening to him.

“Jake,” Marc scrambled to his brother’s side, holding his head in his lap and looking down at him, tears filling his eyes. “What are you doing dealing with guys like this huh? You’re smarter than that.”

Jake scoffed, “fuck off, I don’t need a lecture from you, we all have our shit. People don’t fake their own death because they’re innocent, little brother.”

Marc watched him cough up blood, the smell driving him crazy and making him salivate. He shook his head, clearing his mind enough to think more clearly. He wasn’t allowed to turn anyone, it was strictly forbidden by Khonshu. But Khonshu didn’t have to know. Marc bit into his own wrist, wincing as he did and quickly pressing his bleeding flesh against Jake’s lips.

“Drink,” he demanded.

“Marc what the fuck are you–”

“Just trust me!”

Jake drank the blood, and his wound healed seamlessly as if it had never been there in the first place. Marc sighed in relief, though he knew he’d just doomed his brother to the life he hated.

“You have to get away from here, Jake.”

Jake looked at Marc as if he was a monster, and he’d be right. Marc was a monster.

“Marc, what the fuck has happened to you,” Jake asked, a dark scowl sporting his face.

“I don’t have time to explain, I need to go just…don’t come looking for me, ever, and if someone named Khonshu or Ammit ever come to you and invite you to join them…don’t.��

Marc didn’t know what ever came of Jake and what he did to him that night. The next time Marc found himself in New York he looked him up but couldn’t find anyone with the name Jake Spector. He could only hope that he’d found his way without hurting anyone or hurting himself, and he could only hope that he didn’t despise Marc as much as Marc despised himself.

“What about me?”

Marc jumped awake, realizing he’d fallen asleep, not something a healthy vampire normally needed, but after -what he could only assume was- a few days without blood, Marc was feeling weak. The voice had caught him off guard, even more so the British accent that came with it. Marc looked up and could swear his little brother, Steven, was standing there in the corner of the small room, staring down at Marc from where he sat on the floor.

“Steven.”

“Did you forget about me?”

“No,” Marc grumbled, “unfortunately I can’t forget about anyone’s life I’ve ruined.”

It was easy for Marc to know he was hallucinating because Steven was always mean to him in his state of delirium. Marc would’ve paid the real Steven to be mean to him, just for the sake of easing the guilt he felt around his little brother. The hallucination of Steven disappeared, but the memories came flooding in against Marc’s will.

Marc and Khonshu had gone to London in 1940, if Marc recalled correctly.. He remembered the year clearly because that was the year Steven turned 40. It was raining in London the day they got there, and the streets were fairly empty.

“Marc, take a small patrol around central. Harrow, go to the west.” Khonshu demanded.

Ammit was there with them, along with some of the other ancient ones. The city had been terrorized by a pack of mutts, young ones at that. They’d only been turned a couple of weeks prior, making them feral, unpredictable creatures. A seasoned lycanthrope could behave, not drawing attention to itself or its pack. The young were incapable, and that’s why Khonshu was there, to put a stop to the tyranny.

If there was one thing Marc admired about Khonshu, it was his desire to keep the chaos to a minimum. He didn’t like loose ends or threats to his way of life. The underground society that was run by vampires, were-creatures, and supernatural beings alike, could only thrive if there was order in place. When disorder ensued, even those who had been enemies for millennia could put aside their differences for the greater good of their species. If the majority of humans found out about their existence, they were sure to be eradicated overnight.

Much like Jake, Marc hadn't seen Steven since before he’d turned. In fact, neither he nor Jake had seen Steven in what felt like ages. When Marc left to join the marines, he’d left the two of them behind with their abusive mother. Then when Jake finally left, he hightailed it for New York, wanting to get as far from her as possible.

Marc always knew that Jake never forgave him for leaving, even if he was the one getting the brunt end of their mother’s wrath. He knew it was because once Marc left, that wrath turned to Jake and Steven. Just another thing Marc could add to the long list of things that were his fault.

Steven was neurodivergent, coping with the abuse by dissociating and imagining he was a British archeologist which later developed into him having an almost obsessive interest in history, namely Egypt. Marc chuckled now at the thought, wondering how Steven would react if he knew the truth about all the Egyptian gods.

Marc would never forget the screams he heard that night ripping through London. A wild pack of feral werewolves under the light of a full moon spelled disaster for the city. The young were harder to kill than the seasoned, their bodies not yet weary with age and years of fatigue that came with being one of them.

He saw Steven, among many other employees, rushing out of the National Art Gallery with several werewolves in tow. Marc watched one of Steven’s coworkers get attacked right behind his brother, the creature mauling her before she even had a chance to put up a fight. Steven managed to distract one with his bookbag, but then another came at him from the front.

“What the hell are the odds,” Marc remembered muttering, shocked that he’d found his brother, of all people, hung up in this mess.

He, to this day, still wondered if Khonshu somehow knew the locations of Marc’s brothers and brought him to those places specifically to torment him.Then again, he wasn’t sure what the motive would be and decided it wasn’t likely to be the case. He managed to stop the creature that was lunging at Steven, the massive beast scratching at Marc’s chest, only to meet its end by a crescent dart slicing smoothly through its jugular.

“Steven!” Marc recalled shouting his brother’s name, finding him leaning up against a wall with a gash in his arm. “Shit…”

“M-Marc?”

Even through his pain, that little shit still smiled like he was happy to see him. Steven’s face beamed, eyes glittering in the moonlight as if he hadn’t just narrowly escaped death by supernatural monster.

“You’re alive! Oh Jake is gonna be so–”

“You’ve seen Jake?” Marc knew it wasn’t the time for casual conversation, but he had to know if their older brother was still alive.

Steven shook his head, “n-not for a couple years now, but when I find him, he’ll be absolutely thrilled to know you’re not dead!”

Marc felt a pain in his chest, the thought of Steven waiting for either of his older brothers to come back to him only to disappear for years at a time. If guilt could kill a man, it would’ve taken Marc out right then and there.

“Marc! The fight’s not over yet! What are you doing?!”

One of Khonshu’s soldiers hollered in Marc’s direction alerting him that his time for catching up was over. He touched Steven’s cheek; it was cold and covered in a thin layer of sweat.

“Take care of yourself, alright?” Marc looked down at the wound on Steven’s arm. “That should heal just fine, it’s not that deep, just keep pressure on it.”

“Marc!”

“Hide by the bodies, act dead and they won’t be able to smell your body over the dead ones,” Marc rushed to say, to which Steven nodded, lips shaking as if he meant to say something else, but Marc left before he could utter another word.

Marc still wondered while he sat in the thirst room what it was Steven wanted to tell him. Was he going to beg him to stay? Or was he finally going to give him a piece of his mind for running off and abandoning him and Jake? It didn’t matter. Either way, Marc had to leave, and either way, Steven’s words would’ve made it even harder for him to go.

He didn’t want to think about Ro most of all, but the young boy he killed weighed heavily on his mind the longer he sat in there. It was as if the harder he tried not to think about it, the harder it became to ignore. Steven was too young to remember Marc killing their brother, and Marc was eternally grateful for that. To this day, Marc wished he’d died instead.

He laughed a bit, thinking about how he was never good at following directions. His mother had told him to be careful and keep an eye on Ro when they went to play in that cave before it washed out and Ro drowned. Khonshu had told Marc to stay away from you. Maybe Marc was just bad at following directions. Maybe the thirst room would finally put him out of his misery.

He could only hope…

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#moon knight #marc spector #Marc Spector X f!Reader #marc spector headcanon #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector smut #moon knight drabble #marc spector drabble #moon knight smut #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fic #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector fan fiction #moon knight fan fiction

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melodygatesauthor · 7 days

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I'm back bitches

Kinda, I'll be posting the next chapter of DOTM today. I'm trying to get back into the groove of writing and posting art WIPs and all that.

To keep it brief, work was really draining me, and my inspiration has been put more into art (creating OCs and whatnot) and not so much fan related work. I want to get back into it though.

I also have updates for the @the-oscar-isaac-collective !! Woo!

#melody talks #thinking out loud

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melodygatesauthor · 15 days

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someone’s gotta say it… we need more thigh/buldge riding fics… *goes back into hiding*

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melodygatesauthor · 15 days

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I'm so excited for this! Really hoping I find the time to participate!!

Yayy!!!

Banner by @winniethewife

Oscar Issac/Pedro Pascal Fan Art and Fiction Pride Event 2024

Hello friends!

Let's try this again and I'll try to be more clear to not invoke discourse. That being said, it is *my* event and if you'd like to run one a certain way, go nuts. However, this is how I'm doing it.

I had a lot of fun doing Dead Dove December and the Triple Frontier Anniversary Event so I decided I wanted to do an event for pride this year! I know it seems far away right now, especially given how many of us in north America are still cold af, but I wanna give everyone time!

Each week of pride will have a theme to write or draw for (you don't have to do all of them! Think of it like kinktober.) at the end, I will put out a masterlist (or multiple depending how many)so we can all share each other's work.

Why?

Oscar Isaac and Pedro Pascal are both allies to LGBT people, Pedro having played multiple queer rolls and having likened his sexuality to that of Prince Oberyn. Despite none of the characters being canon queer, Triple Frontier specifically lends itself to queer stories. Recently, theres been a rise in stories of Oscar characters in relationships or Pedro characters in relationships which I love.

What I'd really like to do is encourage people to think past x fem!reader or canon presentation of characters. I want to encourage gay, lesbian, bisexual relationships, trans readers, trans interpretations of characters etc. More content guidelines will be in the what section.

Where?

Primarily tumblr.com, our very own shithole hellsight. However, especially given tumblr's censorship vs. twitter, I am encouraging posting on twitter or wherever you'd like. If you post something elsewhere, send me a link or send me a post you made about it on tumblr and I'll promote the link.

Additionally if you only write on ao3, I'd love for you to participate too! Once again, just send the link!

When?

in order to do the week by week themes and hold all of June, there will be 6 weeks from May 26th-July 6th

Each week will have themes. I won't be policing the weeks and these so if you do the 1st week on july 3rd, that's fine. The themes are keeping in mind both artists and writers. I only got one artist for DDD, a great piece and I've love to see more! Ideas are just for spit balling, do your own take!

May 26th-June 1st: Coming out. Ideas: Coming out to family, lover, friend. Finding gender affirming clothes/hair, first pride

June 2nd-8th: Transitioning Ideas: Surgary, surgery scars, starting T or E, binding (safely!!!)

June 9th-15th: Sex/kissing First time together, first time with certain biology or the same sex, sweet kisses, smut showing scars,

June 16th-22nd: Food, fashion, fun

All things queer culture and culture of different religions, racial or country backgrounds, queer fashion, gender affirming clothes, Keshet (קשת), listening to Lady Gaga or Bruce Springsteen, watching a queer movie

June 23rd-29th: Struggles Rejection, reconciling faith and identity, missing family that rejected one, comfort, candlelight vigil, day of remembrance.

June 30th- July 6th:Strength Asserting ones or a partner/friend/family's pronouns, standing up against hate, being loudly and proudly yourself, pride events

Who?

Writers and artists in any form are welcome. I also want to encourage working with each other, writers and artists together!

For characters: Any Oscar Isaac or Pedro Pascal character has to at least be in the relationship. Other characters in universes can be done, such as FishBen.

Reader can be anyone, just properly tag! If you want to come out to Marc Spector as bisexual, do it!!! If you want Joel to take care of you after top surgery, do it!

YOU DO NOT NEED TO BE QUEER TO PARTICIPATE!

However! Please do your research if writing or drawing an identity not yours. There are trans, nonbinary, gay, lebian etc bloggers all over tumblr who write about their experience, please divert to first person testimonies rather than assumptions.

What?

A few rules

MUST contain more than male character x fem!reader. Male character x fem!reader x male character does not count unless the two male characters are romantically or sexually involved or one or the reader is trans. Any Q's, dm me!

This is not a dark event. I'm not going to be policing the content matter but I really want to primarily focus on the pride. However, as a bisexual, gender non-conforming person I know a lot of pain can still be involved. What we are not doing is suicide, death, self-harm, or non consensual activity. If you have questions or would like to make a case for something, just dm me!

This is not inherently NSFW, but there is absolutely NSFW allowed. Always tag everything properly.

The usual no's like bestiality, incest, underage nsfw etc

As far as minor characters, SFW MINOR CHARACTERS IS ALLOWED. You can write or draw lgbt themes because being LGBT is not inherently sexual. For example, teenage Santi coming out as trans to Frankie or your own version of Ellie and Joel's talk about Ellie and Dina kiss. That being said, I'd prefer to reserve this to teens. Again, any questions or ideas that don' quite fit into parameters, just ask!

As always, I am allowed to use my discretion. If I do not want to include something, I won't. However, I know that there are rifts in the fandom. I won't be excluding you out of personal bias. As long as I don't have you blocked and you haven't plagerized or done something really bad to people, you'll be included. I'm not letting petty beefs get in the way. Harmful actions will, however. I need to protect my peace and keep

NO REAL PERSON FANFICTION. Do not write about Oscar Isaac or Pedro pascal being gay or trans and do not make any assumptions about their sexuality or gender identity. Oscar is happily married to a woman and Pedro has expressed his sexuality is like that of Oberyn Martell but has not elaborated much further, nor should he have to. Just leave ‘em be. You can speculate elsewhere but that’s not what this event is for.

How?

Simply tag me, @romanarose and use the #OscarPedroPrideEvent2024 please please please use BOTH so it's easier for me to find!!!

When the event is over, much like DDD I will compiled them into a masterlist and posted. This is a chance for every blog, big and small, to get a moment in the sun and to share each others works! Remember, reblogging, comments, and interacting is what makes this a community! I want to create an environment that is welcoming and we all help each other.

Please feel free to reach out to me for any questions or clarification!

However, if you go issues with me writing men kissing, chracters being trans, queer readers etc, I'm not really open to debate.

~A nonbinary bisexual <3

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melodygatesauthor · 25 days

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OMG TOO CUTE FOR WORDS I CANT FENNNNNN

Inside Llewyn Davis

#art rec #llewyn davis #inside llewyn davis #doodle

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melodygatesauthor · 28 days

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Thinking about doing a "sleepover"

It's been a long time since I've done one, or since I've seen anyone else do one, what do we think? If I do one will anyone participate?

#thinking out loud

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melodygatesauthor · 28 days

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Aaaaa ty Fen. I was a cathartic piece FOR SURE hahaha I get into those moods once in a while and Marc seems to be the perfect punching bag unfortunately 😭

Save Us

Moon Boys X f!Reader

Summary: Two months after Marc broke up with you, you get a late night call from Steven that has you worried and rushing to help them. It's hard to face them again after things went wrong, but Marc is going to try and make it up to you.

Tags/Warnings: NSFW, Marc is kinda toxic, Marc needs therapy, Marc has issues, Marc needs a hug, THIS STORY IS ANGSTY, may be triggering if you've been in a toxic relationship before, sad, smut, p in v creampie, argument, breakup, exes to lovers trope, soft dom Steven, sorry in advance, no physical abuse

Major Trigger Warning: this story explores themes of emotional abuse. It was very self indulgent. If you’ve been a victim of emotional abuse (or are sensitive to topics like this) then this may be upsetting to you. You’ve been warned. I seriously went the full self indulgent route with this one. Had to work some personal stuff out and it helped!

Word Count: 9.9k (What in the...)

You were awoken in the dead of night to your phone vibrating loudly on the end table at your bedside. You groaned, sitting up and looking at the screen. Clear as day, it said, My Boys🌙. You still needed to change their name in your phone, or completely block their number. It rang until it went to voicemail, but that’s when you saw that there were seven missed calls.

You hadn’t heard from any of them in the two months since Marc had broken up with you, and now they’d called you seven times. It rang again, this time you jumped up and grabbed it immediately. You didn’t want to talk to them, but you knew it must be serious for one of them to be actually calling you.

“H-hello? Hello?” You cleared your throat.

“Dove? Darling?” You heard Steven on the other end and you let out an exhale.

You weren’t ready to deal with Marc, but Steven…at first you were relieved it was him, but the more you thought about it, Steven was worse. Steven might be able to convince you to come back.

“Is everything ok?” You asked, feeling your chest already tighten at the tone of his voice.

“No, no I’m afraid it’s not.” He was sobbing. You felt your own eyes start welling up. “We need your help.”

“Are you in danger? What’s wrong?” You tried to keep the panic down in your voice.

“I…I think I’m a little drunk, but we’re sobering up.” You could hear it now that he’d mentioned it, the slurring of his words as he spoke. “I haven’t been in the front in a long time, it’s always Marc, he won’t…oh my…he won’t let Jake or me out. We’ve been trapped in there.”

“Ok, you need to tell me where you are, right now.” You demanded.

“I’m outside of a…” You heard him pull the phone away from his face.

“Hey, watch it!” Steven yelled.

You heard some scuffling, followed by some Spanish slurs, before the phone was picked up again.

“Mi princesa.” Jake said. “We’re at the corner of Elm and Main, at a place called Tiko’s. I can feel Marc trying to take over again…por favor, querida, we need you.”

The line went dead. It was rare that Jake uttered the words por favor, or we need you. Steven’s cries would remain burned into your memory for an eternity. He cried when you’d left too, and you still hadn’t forgotten the pain. It was all you thought about as you got yourself dressed and headed for their location. You knew right where it was, it was where you and Marc had first met.

------------------------

It was also where he went just before he broke up with you. He’d come home, wasted, completely obliterated and crying. It was constant, and you were sick of it. He refused to go to therapy, said it was for nutjobs, and he didn’t want them drugging him up. You understood, you sympathized, but instead you were stuck trying to handle his terrible self-loathing attitude, and toxic behavior.

“Why don’t you just fucking leave then? Huh? If you’re not happy then why don’t you just go!” His mouth turned into a hard line, his brow furrowed.

That was always his go to line whenever things got tough. Always telling you to leave if you didn’t like it. You sometimes wondered why he even asked you out in the first place if this is how he was.

“Ok Marc, is that really what you want? You want me to leave? Fine…you say it every time we fight so you know what, I’ll go then.”

The two of you had moved in together a year ago, but you moved in to his place, so almost everything was his, Steven’s and Jake’s. The TV that had a purple spot in the corner when you turned it on from the time Marc threw one of Steven’s books at it in a fit of rage; the stool at the breakfast bar that had a wobbly leg from the time Marc pushed it over while he was drunk and yelling at you; and the dresser in the bedroom that had a broken drawer from when he punched it, it was all his.

It was heartbreaking to walk away from the other two though. They didn’t have anything to do with it. When Marc backed out, retreating to the headspace, too upset to handle the pressure, Jake came out. That was the final straw. He couldn’t even be bothered to have a conversation with his girlfriend after berating her for over an hour. He did it time and time again, and this time…you’d had enough.

“Princesa, please don’t go.” Jake said, walking up to you quickly while you started filling a bag with clothes.

“Jake.” You pulled your arm back quickly when he grabbed it.

“Cariño.” He grabbed your arm again.

“No!” You yelled a little too loudly in your apartment. “I’m done Jake. I can’t do this. You want someone to blame? Blame Marc.”

Jake was never one to give up easily, so he must’ve been able to tell how serious you were when he let go of your arm again and forfeited the body to Steven. The bastard, he knew that of the three, Steven would be the one to get you to stay. He’d done it time and time again. Always telling you that he’d confront Marc himself and that he’d work on making Marc be better for the four of you, but even Steven couldn’t help Marc, you were convinced at this point that no one could.

“Darling please,” there came the waterworks. Even when it wasn’t your fault, Steven made you feel guilty. “He’s gotten a little better, yeah? Look…”

You were still filling your bag with clothes while Steven walked to the kitchen and came back with a card.

“He got you this for your birthday.” He held the birthday card in his hand like it was supposed to be the one thing stitching the relationship together. “I didn’t even have to remind him! He did it on his own!”

You stopped, holding a pair of jeans in your hands. You looked at Steven. He was desperate. His eyes were glossed over while he tried to keep it together. You remembered when Marc got you that card, it was the day after a fight, and he felt guilty. He only ever did anything nice when he felt guilty the next day, never when it really counted.

“They’re both assholes for putting you through this.” You said, feeling yourself choking up. “I can’t do this anymore Steven, Marc doesn’t want me here, and I don’t want to be here.”

“But he’s nice sometimes, look he also…” Steven was scrambling around the apartment.

You walked to the bathroom and grabbed your toothbrush and other personal care items. When you looked in the mirror, you noticed your saddened face and realized how much you’d been crying. You’d probably been crying for at least an hour. You wiped your cheeks and went back out to the bedroom where Steven was standing with a vase.

“He got you this vase, remember when you were sick and he went and got you flowers?” Steven asked. You saw his eyebrows raise in an attempt to look happier, but they were fighting to furrow.

“Steven, please go.” You grabbed the vase and put it in the bathroom trash. “You know he only got me those because I had just complained the day before about how he never does anything nice for me? He only does something nice after I’ve complained about it.”

“I can’t just go.” He looked like a lost puppy trying to get you to keep him. “They’re both just out, quiet, I wish I could leave.”

You sighed, wiping your face and sniffling, “then they’re both fucked for doing that to you. You don’t need to be here, dealing with this. Marc is selfish, and…that’s it! He’s selfish! He’s the one who did this, he’s the one who should be here. He’s a fucking coward.”

You threw the bathroom items in your bag and then zipped it.

“Tell Marc I’ll have my brother come back for the rest of my things.” You grabbed your purse and pulled out your keys.

“Sweetheart, love, please!” Steven raised his voice, cracking under the weight of sorrow.

You turned around, “I’m so so sorry baby. I really am.” You said through your own strained voice. “You deserve better than what he’s putting you through, and so do I, I wish I could help you.”

------------------------

With that, and one last look at Steven’s broken face and waterfall of tears, you slammed the door and never looked back, until now, when you were turning the corner on the street to find Jake leaned against the building, smoking a cigarette. You got out of the car and pulled your jacket around yourself tighter. You felt like an idiot for coming back after what Marc put you through, but there you were. You reminded yourself that you weren’t there for Marc, you were there for Jake and for Steven.

“Jake, come on.” You said, waving him over.

“Oh, hermosa, I missed you.” He winked as he walked over to you. He was stinking of alcohol and smoke.

“Put that thing out.” You grabbed it from his lips and dropped it, crushing the butt under your shoe. “Let’s go.” You took his hand, to which he pulled you in close.

“You are as beautiful as the day you left, perhaps even more.” He cupped your cheek and leaned in to kiss you but you pulled back.

“I didn’t come here to get back together with you, I came back to get you home in one piece.” You pushed him back, and he stumbled and fell.

He shook his head, “Wha-oh right, I’m here and…” Steven looked up at you, it always amazed you how different each of them looked regardless of the fact that they shared the same body. “Oh my…love!”

Steven stood up and couldn’t hide the smile plastered on his drunken face. He gripped your shoulders before pulling you in for a hug. He wasn’t going to try and kiss you like Jake had, he was too respectful of your boundaries to do anything like that. Even when you were dating, he always respected your personal space.

“We really got ourselves in a predicament, yeah? Well…” He chuckled, “Marc did. I’m sure that doesn’t surprise you.”

“I need you to just get in the car, we can talk on the way back to your place.” You said, urging him into the vehicle.

When you got in on your side you let out a heavy sigh and put the car in drive before heading toward their apartment. The streetlights afforded you a split second of light before fading into darkness again. The radio was off, leaving nothing but silence. You heard Steven sniffle, fighting back the urge to cry.

“Tell me what happened, why did you call? I made it very clear-”

“Marc isn’t letting me or Jake out, it’s just headspace all day every day. He’s destroying us.” Steven said, choking on his words. “I don’t know when the last time we ate something proper was. I’m so hungry.” He pressed a hand to his stomach.

“Do you have food at the house?” You asked, pulling down a different road.

“Y-yeah I think he’s got a few things…I don’t know.” He said, laying his head back. “I missed you.” He was crying again, “I’m sorry, I said I wasn’t going to do this before I called you.”

“It’s fine. I’m…I’m glad you called me, Steven.” You said, keeping your eyes on the road.

“We had a lot of time to think after you left, and…he really didn’t deserve you, I never should’ve asked you to stay. I’m so sorry.” Just when Steven’s cries became overwhelmingly loud, they stopped suddenly, and you knew it was Jake coming back. You’d grown to know them so well that you could tell the differences between the way they each breathed when they were upset.

“Keep him in there please, at all costs.” You said coldly, trying to keep your composure.

“Si.” Was all he said. You knew he understood.

Steven wasn’t a child, and didn’t need to be treated like one, but he was much more sensitive than the other two, and you knew that he was living a nightmare having to see you and go through this, and having you just within arm’s reach, but not being able to really have you. He had been a passenger in Marc’s path of destruction, just like you had, the only difference was that you could walk away, Steven just had to suffer in there and you felt terrible for him and Jake both.

“Marc has completely taken over. Saw a girl at the bar tonight though who kinda looked like you and then he went loco, yelled at her, he was so drunk, and then he went away.” You watched him pull a cigarette pack from his pocket. “Steven was so happy to be out, he just ran outside and knew he had to call you to get you to help. Something about that girl must’ve knocked Marc back.”

“You’re smoking again? I thought you quit.” You grabbed the pack and threw it into the back seat.

“It’s Marc’s pack.” He explained, dropping his hands on his lap. You could tell you irritated him.

Marc wasn’t a smoker. At least, he hadn’t been while you were together. Jake had been, but insisted on quitting after getting to know you.

“What has he been doing?” You asked as you pulled onto their street.

“Nothing.” Jake was aggravated. “He’s been doing absolutely fucking nothing except destroying himself and dragging us down with him.” He let out a heavy sigh. “I’ve been in there for two months, dos.” He held up two fingers to emphasize his point.

“I’m sorry.” Was all you said, you didn’t know what else you could say.

“I’m not mad at you, Cariño, I could never be mad at you.” He said calmly as you pulled into the driveway.

“Jake…” You put the car in park. “Did he hurt anyone?”

“No, no one except you, and Steven.” He said softly.

“And you. You might not be showing it but, I know you’re feeling it too.” You said quietly. He always stayed quiet about his feelings, but he wasn’t emotionless, he was just less expressive.

His hand reached over and grabbed yours.

“You have always been so caring, querida.” You tried to keep it inside, but a smirk played at the corners of your mouth, Jake was always so smooth.

“Please stop.” You pulled your hand out from under his and opened the door quickly.

If you’d let his hand linger, you’d be inclined to lean into it, and you couldn’t allow yourself to do that. You damned yourself for even being there in the first place. You still had the key to their apartment and opened the door so the slightly staggering Jake could make his way inside. You made sure to lock it tightly and returned your keys to your pocket before helping Jake get to a chair at the table.

“Here.” You opened the fridge, only to find…nothing.

There were about two tablespoons of butter, opened, several sauce packets strewn about, a moldy tomato, and about three-twelve packs of beer. You took note that one of the twelve packs was down a few beers. You let out a heavy sigh.

“Guess he’s living on air and beer then?” You slammed the fridge closed.

“There’s some ramen I think, in the cupboard.” Jake said, letting out a huff. “Steven would appreciate the taste of food you know…”

“Think he can handle it?” You opened the cupboard and found some packages of dried noodles. “Being here with me?”

“He’s calmed down. I think he will be ok.” And with that, Jake was gone.

“I’m fine.” Steven said, sucking in a deep breath. “Really.”

You grabbed some water from the tap and handed it to Steven whose hands were trembling. He drank from the cup in big gulps, when he finished it, you poured him some more.

“Let me make you something to eat.” You said, turning to the cupboards.

There wasn’t one pan that you could use. They were all in the sink, or on the stove, and they were all dirty. Of course this couldn’t just be easy.

“He usually just microwaves somethin’, or eats the noodles dry.” You groaned at Steven’s words.

“I…nevermind.” You wanted to say how frustrated you were to be there trying to make food for them, and running into every obstacle along the way, but you decided not to dump that on Steven.

Instead you ran the hot water and grabbed the sponge. You soaked it and then started washing the dishes, lathering soap on each one in silence, knowing Steven’s eyes were on your back. You felt saddened by the memories flooding through your head, thinking about all the times you’d been at the sink doing the dishes for them before.

------------------------

There was one time when Steven was fronting and he was sitting at the table while you did dishes after dinner, and he was going on about some Egyptian God you couldn’t remember the name of now. You were smiling in this memory, unable to suppress the joy that came to you while listening to him chattering on about his passions. When you’d finished scrubbing and turned to look at him. He was absolutely beaming, and so were you. You were…happy then.

“How did we get so lucky?” He asked, standing up and walking over to you.

He put his hands on your waist and kissed your forehead.

“Well, Jake’s a smooth talker, you’re thoughtful and sweet and Marc…” you trailed off.

You and Marc had never seen eye to eye. He was always pushing you away. Always telling you how he should just disappear and let Jake and Steven have the body so that you could be happy. But that wasn’t what you wanted, at least, that’s what you told him. You wondered what made you fall for him in the first place sometimes, but that didn’t matter now, you loved him, right?

“Marc what?” You watched his entire body language change, and he let go of you, stepping back. He chuckled, “hard to find anything to huh? What do I keep telling you?”

You groaned, wishing that he would’ve just let you and Steven have a nice evening, but you’d struck a nerve, and Marc loved to fight. He liked to make you feel bad, at least that’s how it felt, and then leave right when you pushed too far so that Jake or Steven were left to pick up the pieces. You tried to be understanding, you knew he had trauma, but sometimes he was just cruel.

“Please don’t start, Marc, not tonight I’m exhausted.” You walked toward the bedroom and he followed, hot on your heels.

“No! Don’t you walk away from me…!” He said your name with venom laced around each letter, “we never get to talk, the other two always get the best of you and then when I come in, you…you just walk away!”

You pressed your lips together tightly in frustration.

“Are you suggesting that when I see you, Marc, that you give me the best version of yourself? Hm? Because from the way I see it, every time you’re fronting, you treat me like you don’t fucking want me here!” You felt your eyes starting to gloss over. “Not to mention, you say I’m an ass for walking away? You always retreat into the headspace every single time we argue!”

“You ever think that maybe I actually don’t want you here? How many times have I told you to leave? If I treat you so badly, then just go!” He yelled.

“Why can’t you just stop being an asshole and then I don’t have to leave?! I don’t want to go Marc, I want you to love me and treat me like you want me around!” Now you couldn’t stop the dam from flooding over. Tears were coming down, and fast, and you knew it was only a matter of time before Marc dipped out. “I love you, I don’t want to go.”

“No, you don’t love me, you love Steven, and Jake, but not me.” He said, and his words were followed by silence that hung heavily in the air.

He was right, and you weren’t going to say it out loud, but he was right. When you’d first met them, it was just Marc at first. He was sweet, caring, he treated you like a princess. The more you got to know the boys, the more you grew to love them all, and the longer you were together, the more Marc started to push you away. Because you deserved better than him, and he was no good for you, or at least that’s what he said.

------------------------

That was the moment you’d realized you really didn’t love Marc anymore. You still held him in your heart, but the spark wasn’t there. Instead it was replaced with an anxiousness that pooled in your gut like a bad meal. You turned and looked at Steven once you’d finished the dishes. He was staring up at you from the chair with those big eyes you loved so much.

“Let me get this food going before he takes over again.” You grabbed one of the pots you cleaned and filled it with water before putting it on the stove.

When you turned around, Steven was standing with his hands balled into nervous fists at his sides, eyes trained on the floor. He did that when he wanted to say something but knew he shouldn’t. You put a hand on his shoulder and he relaxed a little bit and met your gaze.

“What is it?” You asked. “Talk to me?”

“No, nope, I’m, I’m fine.” He said, pressing his lips together tightly.

“Steven, it’s three am, I drove over here to help you, I washed the dishes and now I’m cooking you food. I think you can talk to me.” You said firmly.

He let out an exhale, “I miss you s’all.”

“I know, I miss you too. I just can’t…I can’t…”

“I know. I hate him too.” Steven looked agitated, more agitated than you’d seen him in a long time.

------------------------

The last time he was this bold regarding Marc was that same night, right after Marc had accused you of not loving him. After dropping those words on you, he left, letting Steven have you, the blubbering crying mess, that he’d left behind. It wasn’t the first time that you cried because of Marc, and each time chipped away at Steven more and more until he’d had enough too.

“Love,” he rushed over to you, pulling you in tightly, letting you soak his shirt for the umpteenth time, “you know if I could hit him, I would.”

You didn’t respond, you just sobbed into Steven’s chest, trying to let yourself be soothed by the gentle way he rubbed your back. You liked the way he smelled, the way they all smelled, and you kissed his chest just above where your tears had soaked his shirt.

“I love you, Steven, and I love Marc too.” You said, unsure whether you were trying to convince him or yourself, or maybe you were trying to convince the man hiding inside his own head.

“I know darling, I think he knows, he just gets caught up in his own head sometimes.” He chuckled, “well, I guess all three of us do.”

That forced a small amused breath to escape you. The air already felt lighter, and you were starting to cope with the emotional turmoil Marc had put you through. This was how it always went, Marc would start a fight, you’d be left with Steven or Jake, and slowly your emotions would come back to normal with the help of his alters just in time for him to break you down again. It was a never ending cycle.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” You murmured, pulling back. “Steven, I love you, I love all three of you but-“

He silenced you with his lips over yours.

“That’s enough of that.” He said in a forceful but quiet tone. “I’ll keep him in there if I have to, I’m not letting him push you away from us.”

You wanted to believe him, and you wished he’d been able to do it, but he couldn’t. That didn’t stop him from seizing the moment while he had it though, pulling you in for soft kisses and entangled tongues. Steven’s favorite body part was your breasts, that’s how you could tell sometimes if the boys switched mid session. One time Jake had taken over while Steven was buried in your chest and immediately began squeezing your rear.

Not now though, now Steven was dragging your shirt up while he trekked his hand over your abdomen on his way to squeeze your rounded mound. You gasped a heated moan into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck and entangling your fingers into his curls. The supporting hand on your back gripped tightly, pulling you in so hard you thought you might melt into one being.

“I love you, Steven.” You said, going in for more breathy kisses.

“I love you too darling.” He started slowly pushing you backward until the backs of your knees met the mattress.

You fell back, chest heaving. Steven was ripping off Marc’s jacket and shirt and you were quick to get your top off as well. He preferred you leave in your bra, he said he liked to take it off himself. Something about the way they looked when he unclasped the strap in the back, you didn’t fully understand, but you didn’t argue either.

“Wow…” he said, looking down at you. “You’re so beautiful, dove.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. You were sure you looked frightful, eyes puffy from tears, makeup streamed down your face, but Steven always told you how pretty you were, no matter what. He was good at that. He climbed over you, hovering his body closely over yours. You felt the peak of his erection pressing onto your leg through his pants.

“Oh, Steven…” you moaned, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling his lips to yours in deep, bruising kisses.

He was grinding himself on your leg, moaning every time he opened his mouth over yours in another wet and messy kiss. Supporting himself on one elbow, he reached around your back and unhooked your bra with one hand before disconnecting your lips to look at your chest. When he pulled the bra up over your arms, he stared in awe at your tits, wasting no more time before latching his mouth over one of them.

“Oh, f-fuck.” You stammered, gripping the back of his head.

One of his hands ran up your abdomen and grabbed your other nipple, pinching it between his fingers. You arched your back, pushing your chest further into his face and hand. You felt him gently churning his hips and grinding into you. He was sloppily sucking on your peak, covering your tit in his saliva.

“Mm, feels good baby.” You groaned, rolling your hips upward, wishing you’d taken your pants off before this.

Steven, who you’d thought would be the most timid when it came to sex, became silently demanding in the bedroom when it came to what you were and weren’t allowed to do. He liked to be the one to undress you, and he liked to be the one who started the physical piece. He liked to take his time, making you yearn until you nearly exploded the moment he entered you.

He leaned back. The shadow of his erection was oh so apparent in his sweats. It took everything inside of you not to sit forward and grab it. Steven’s little curl fell in front of his eyes, and he didn’t bother to brush it away as he unbuttoned your jeans and tugged them off.

“Oh love, look you’ve soaked straight through your little panties there.” He leaned over, burying his face in the fabric of your underpants and inhaling deeply. His pussy drunken eyes, hooded and dark, peered over your mound at you. “I’m just going to have a little taste, darling…just a little…”

He moved your panties to the side and ran his tongue along your slit, flicking sharply once he got to your clit. A gasp escaped your lips as you shifted your hips forward toward Steven’s face. He pressed a large hand on your abdomen, holding you down.

“Sh-shit.” You gripped the sheets tightly.

Steven, despite Jake’s overall skill in the bedroom, was the best at eating pussy. The way his tongue glided over each part of your cunt, and the way he slurped and groaned to your taste like he was savoring each drop made you lose your mind. He knew to put a hand down to keep you in place, otherwise your hips would force him off the bed completely. He looked up at you, eyes dark and hungry, before looking back down at his work. You tangled one of your hands into his hair, urging him on.

“Mm, Steven you always know just…oh shit…just what to do baby.” You cooed, tugging at his curls

If there was one way to help you get over a fight with Marc, this was it, and Steven and Jake knew that. They’d fuck you until you could hardly walk and then cuddle you while you fell asleep.

------------------------

Steven was quiet now while you finished making the ramen noodles. You had to keep your back to him while you cooked, otherwise you were going to break down and fall into bed with him and that wouldn’t be good for either of you. Now that you were finished, he was sitting at the table again. You put the noodle bowl in front of him with a fork.

“I hope you like it.” You said genuinely.

Steven looked up at you, “it’s wonderful love, really.”

Steven seemed happy, at least, somewhat, to be getting some food in his stomach, even if it wasn’t the most nutritious. You wondered if he’d had the chance to enjoy any sort of meal since Marc had taken over, but from the way he and Jaked talked, this was the first time either of them had been out in a long time.

You kept trying to convince yourself that you didn’t care about Marc, but a big part of you was curious as to why he took over the boy all that time. The other part of you already kind of knew.

“He really has been fronting this whole time? Why?” You walked over and sat at the table across from Steven.

Steven shrugged, “you know him, he likes to suffer, thinks he’s some kind of hero if he takes the pain himself. A bit messed up innit? Usually once the pain part is over, I come out yeah? Not anymore, the pain part never ends. It’s just…he’s always hurtin’.”

“I’m surprised that Jake hasn’t taken over, when things get really tough, he’s usually right there, ready to deal with it.” You idly picked at a tear in the tablecloth.

“I think Jake likes watching Marc…well…destroy himself.” He stuffed some noodles in his mouth. Steven was probably the only person in the world who could talk with a mouthful that didn’t make you frustrated with their poor manners. “Problem is, it’s destroying us too, and I don’t want to die.” He gulped. “S’why I called you. I thought if anyone could help, it would be you.”

“I’m glad I could help get you home, but I’m…I’m not staying Steven.” The room got quiet again.

He reached a hand across the table and put it over yours. You should’ve stopped him. You should’ve pulled away and told him to cut the crap, but his hand, his gentle and soft hand made you feel warm. Nausea swept through you as you recalled more about your time with the boys.

------------------------

Marc was smiling from across the table at you, holding your hand tightly. You were smiling too. It had been a perfect night. It was New Year’s Eve, and you’d both decided to stay in, and spend it with each other. It was three nights before the breakup, three nights before he finally brought you to the breaking point. He laughed at a silly joke you made, and now he just looked at you with those eyes.

That’s why you’d fallen in love with Marc. He had a way of making you feel like you were the most important thing in the world to him. In fact, you were so important to him that he felt like you were better off without him. He had a troubled past, he didn’t hide that. He eased into telling you about the boys, afraid of scaring you off, but he told you about his mother and about his brother before you’d met the other two. In fact, knowing about his trauma was the only reason you didn’t call him crazy and leave when he told you about Jake and Steven.

He got up and leaned over the table, placing a peck on your forehead. He grabbed your plates and walked over to the sink, turning on the faucet to wash the dishes. Your phone buzzed. It was your brother.

Joe: Hey! I’m going to be in town tomorrow, is it cool if I come over?

“Oh, Joe is asking if he can come over tomorrow.” You paused. “Should be fine right?”

The dishes clanked in the sink and the faucet stopped. Not again, you thought.

“You act different when your brother is here.” He said, turning around and wiping his hands on a towel.

“He’s my brother, of course I act different with him than I do with-”

“No, I mean…you treat me different when he’s around.” He slapped the dish towel on the counter and walked to the living room.

You buried your face in your hands. It was a simple question. Can your brother come over tomorrow? There was no reason to say no, in fact, you only asked out of courtesy. It was a way of making sure you weren’t interfering with some unknown plans. Steven or Jake would’ve just said, of course, with some term of endearment attached to the end.

The night would be even worse if you didn’t follow Marc to the living room, so you got up and went to him. He was back to, staring out the window.

“Marc, I don’t want to fight with you, I’ll just text him and-”

“Yep, just tell him that your nutjob, douchebag boyfriend doesn’t want you around your family.” He said, keeping himself turned away from you. “Make me out to be the bad guy. You’re good at that.”

“Alright you know what? I’m not doing this, Marc.” You threw your arms up before walking to the door and grabbing your keys out of the change bowl.

“Yeah? So you’re just going to leave then?” He turned and looked at you now. “Good, it’s probably for the best.”

“Fuck you.” You slammed the door behind yourself.

You’d gone down to the parking lot and started your car but you didn’t leave yet. You just sat there, crying for a bit, thinking even more about what he’d said, you act different when your brother is here. You hated to admit when Marc was right, but you did act differently toward him. In fact, you downright avoided him. He and your brother didn’t always see eye to eye, and you hadn’t exactly told Joe about Marc’s…condition, so it wasn’t like one of the boys could take his place; Besides, you were sure that would’ve upset Marc even more, you asking one of them to replace him around your family. It would’ve made him feel even more inferior than he already did.

You further hated to admit that he didn’t deserve that. To do that would seem like you were ashamed of him. Like he was your little secret. The saddest thing though, was that it wasn’t the mental disorder that you were trying to hide from your brother, it was the way that Marc acted when your brother was around. You weren’t the only one that acted different with him around.

You laughed a lot, and joked with Joe, and you assumed Marc was probably jealous that you didn’t joke with him the same way, as though you hadn’t been close with your brother your entire life. So Marc would call Joe a punk and try to one-up him in almost everything, and it exhausted you.

While you sat there in your car, furious and thinking about what to do next, you surmised it must’ve been what Marc felt like, when he left the apartment in a huff, on the nights he didn’t hide behind the other two, and he went to the bar instead. You figured that if it worked for him, it would work for you, but you’d forgotten how busy it would be. You’d forgotten for a moment that it was New Year’s Eve.

That made it easier though. People were happy to buy you drinks, seeing that you’d walked into the bar in tears. Some guy offered to take you home, but you denied him, telling him you had three boyfriends waiting for you, to which he raised his eyebrows as if impressed and laughed. When you saw one of them out of the corner of your eye charging into the bar like he owned the place, you groaned.

The well dressed man in a paperboy cap and tie walked over, grabbing your arm.

“Come on, princesa.” You pulled back.

“Jake! I want to stay for one more song!” You shouted over the music.

“No, it’s time to go-”

You covered his mouth in a quick but gentle kiss, “por favor mi amor?” You asked as sweetly as you could.

Jake rolled his eyes, but you knew he couldn’t resist an opportunity to dance with you, especially not when you talked to him like that. A smile spread across his face as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Dancing with Jake was more like foreplay than it was dancing. It always started facing each other. His hips would gently churn against you while you stood as close as you possibly could to him, chest to chest. His lips hardly left yours, and when they did, they instead found purchase on your neck.

The dancing always ended with your rear pressed against his erection while he dry humped you to the rhythm of the song. His leather covered fingers were around your throat while he kissed the side of your neck and cheek tenderly, drawing moans from you that couldn’t be heard over the music. By the time you finally agreed to leave, you were drunk, and a single finger stroke away from a full body, earth quaking orgasm.

You’d driven far, at least a half hour from home, giving Jake more than enough time to stick his hand in your pants while he drove and circle the smooth gloved fingers over your swollen clit. You were already so wet, he slid around easily. You gripped the door handle when you reached climax, moaning and gasping under his touch.

It didn’t stop there though, it never was that simple with Jake. He was going to give it to you when you got home. You’d been teasing his cock all night, running your hand over it through his nice pants. He would give you hell later for ruining them, as though he actually cared. As though he didn’t have ten more pairs at home.

Something about Jake made you feel different than the other two. You wanted to act out, you wanted to be the biggest brat you could just to see how far he’d push you back. The back and forth with Jake was fun though, it always ended in at least one orgasm from both of you, and smiles before dozing off. You were his little brat, and he adored putting you in your place.

That night was no different. You stumbled inside, he chased after you, closing the door with his foot. You were already removing your jacket.

“Get naked for me, cariño, papi will be in to check on you soon.” He said, giving you that smirk that caused your knees to buckle.

You went into the bedroom and wasted no time at all stripping down completely naked except for your panties. Jake always wanted you to keep your panties on, especially if they were wet. You sat at the end of the bed, waiting for him to come in. Be still your beating heart when he did.

His hat was off, likely resting on the coat hanger by the door, his jacket had been discarded as well. He was the most well dressed of the three, and boy did he make you drool standing there like that. His tie was loosened. His button down shirt was rolled up exposing his strong forearms and hands. He wiped his mouth, you were in awe watching the veins in his hands shift under the skin. He was one of the few men you’d seen that could make suspenders sexy.

“Princesa, you know that’s not how I like to see you…” He smirked at you again, an evil but playful grin.

You rolled over on your stomach and then up on all fours, presenting your rear to him proudly. He cooed about how beautiful your ass looked with a thin lacy fabric wedged between your cheeks. He brushed his bare palm over one of them and then smacked it gently. You heard the shuffling of his clothes being removed, along with the clanking from the metal on his belt.

The bed shifted when you felt him get behind you. His finger hooked under the waistband of your panties and slid down, pulling them out of your crack.

“Oh, look at you hermosa.” He used his other hand to feel around between your folds, drawing soft whines from you. “Did you like teasing me? Hm?”

“Yes, papi.” You groaned, lowering your head to the mattress and angling your rear up higher for him.

“You had a rough night, so I’ll go easy on you cariño.” He said, dropping his tie in front of your face.

You knew what to do. You put it around your neck, feeling the soft fabric against your throat, and then reached back, handing him the excess. You felt it tighten under his grip as he pulled back. Jake would never harm you, but he loved to hurt you. Sometimes he’d leave little bite marks that Steven would obsessively rub disinfectant over the next day. Other times he’d leave bruises on your waist from how hard he squeezed and fucked into you.

You’d teased him so much at the bar that he didn’t spend as much time on foreplay as he usually did, and instead kept your head level by tugging on his tie, and getting you in position to ravage you. Sliding into you was easy, you’d been ready since your orgasm in the car. He had one hand, squeezing on your hip that would periodically slap your asscheek and then go back in for a bruising hold over you.

“Si, princesa, you feel so tight, so…mmm.” He could usually last a long time, but you’d spent quite a while rubbing his cock on the dance floor, and he couldn’t hold out.

In truth you didn’t need Jake to last long though, the way he moved he always made you come, every single time. Almost every single time. On the few times he didn’t, he wasn’t afraid to get down behind you and eat his spend out of you while flicking his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves until you were gripping the sheets and begging for him to stop.

------------------------

You pulled your hand back from Steven’s, feeling a pang of guilt for holding it so long. You didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. As soon as your fingers left his, you saw the color leave his face. He dropped his fork and he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Marc.” You said quietly.

He said your name coldly. He was fairly sober at this point. You watched his throat bob as he swallowed harshly. He reached for the glass of water and gulped some down. He was surprisingly gentle when he put the cup back down. You’d expected him to slam it.

“Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” He said. “But I guess now that I’m here, it’s time for you to leave right?”

“Marc, you told me to go. Remember?” You were already resisting your fight or flight response kicking in.

“Didn’t actually think you would go.” He sighed and shook his head. “Probably for the best, right?”

“Never better.” You slid your chair out, standing up.

“You look good…baby.” He said.

“Goodbye, Marc.” You weren’t going to do this…not again.

You’d almost made it to the door. Your hand felt the draft through the broken trim on the doorframe from when Marc pulled it open too harshly so many times. You felt his hand…usually he just let you walk away, but his hand touched yours and you couldn’t stop yourself from turning to face him.

“Marc why are you doing this…please just-”

He closed the tense space between you, covering your mouth in his over and over until you felt like you might collapse. Part of you still tried to pull back, but it was pointless, not because he was holding on too tightly, but because you weren’t trying all that hard. You’d given in to his tender touch, his desperation, his need to keep you.

All you’d thought about all night were the bad times, but there were some good ones too, and they came flooding in while he kissed you, one soft peck after another.

------------------------

You were sitting at the bar the night you’d met, alone, and the handsome man in a forest-green shirt sat down next to you. He caught your eye immediately with his gorgeous smile and the way his eyes wrinkled when he laughed. You were completely enamored from the moment you laid eyes on Marc, entranced by his very being. The two of you drank far too much, and shared far too much that night.

You weren’t one to put out on the first date, nor when it was your first time talking to someone, but you’d made an exception for Marc. You found yourself at his place that night, listening to him coo about how beautiful you were with his face buried in your neck. He was so sweet, gentle, and kind, you wanted to be around him more and more.

Your second date, a real date, was at a restaurant you both hadn’t been to, but talked about wanting to try through your texts. It was the worst food you’d ever had, but sneaking into the bathroom to get fucked over the sink was worth the time and money spent on the bad meal.

It was more than just the sex though, of course that was great, but it was the way Marc really made you feel like you could be yourself around him. He held your hand everywhere you went, as though you were a prize and he’d won and wanted to show you off. When you agreed to be his girlfriend he started looking for excuses to say it. He would call to order pizza and say, yes, for my half I’d like pepperoni and my girlfriend would like the other half with just cheese, please.

So on the nights that he got destructive, it made things even harder. You knew where it was all coming from. Guilt. He felt like you were too good for him, so he had the, push her away before she can push me away, and the, she’s not going to leave on her own so I need to make her leave, mentality. The good times made the bad times feel that much worse, and made it that much harder to walk away when it got really rough.

No matter what he’d thrown at you, you were willing to work through it with him, if only he’d let you. It was when the other two started coming around that things got really tough for Marc, seeing the way you were with them, how you smiled, and the way they made you so happy. For him, you assumed, it made him feel even more like he wasn’t good enough for you. He was jealous, full of hatred for his own shortcomings and unable to get over the pain he brought upon himself. If only he would’ve just talked to you, instead of pushing you away, you wouldn’t be in the position you were in right then.

------------------------

You couldn’t help giving in though, letting him peel off your clothing layer by layer until you were in just your panties, and he was completely undressed, pressed up against you in the bed. Steven was your selfless lover, the one who treated sex like an artform, savoring every single piece of your body as though it were sacred. Jake was your rough and tough beatdown guy who always knew when you needed to be put in your place, but Marc…Marc knew you.

He knew just how to suck on your neck to get you whining and whimpering in ways that the other two could never dream of. He knew just what to say to make you squirm underneath him, begging for more. He kissed you deeply now, feeling around in your soaking wet panties for your clit, circling over it when he found it. You groaned into his mouth.

“Oh wow, baby, so fuckin’ wet.” He said, sliding a finger into your hole easily. “Can’t believe how soaked you are just for me.”

You arched your back, gasping, “oh, shit, Marc.” You wrapped both arms around his neck.

“Tell me how good that feels, tell me baby…” He begged, desperate for your words of praise.

“It feels so…oh shit…you feel so good.” You kept your eyes locked on his while you said it.

He covered your mouth in bruising kiss after bruising kiss while he shoved another finger into your wet cunt. You tangled your fingers into his curls, reveling in the way his moans deepend under your touch. He was so warm and familiar, no matter how much you hated yourself for giving in to him, you couldn’t deny how wonderful Marc felt while he fingered you.

“I want you…” You said, the desperation in your tone pissed you off, but you didn’t care.

“You do?” He asked in between kisses.

“Yes.” You breathed.

Normally, Marc would get you off twice, once with his mouth, fingers, and one time he got you off with his thigh, and then the second time he would get you off was by fucking you until you couldn’t see straight. Tonight he was so glad to have you there, you could tell by how he acted, that he didn’t second guess your request. He wasn’t going to make you wait to feel him inside of you. You could probably ask him for the moon right now and he’d hand it over to you.

He pulled his fingers from you and immediately stuck them between your lips. His eyes rolled back, Marc loved having his fingers sucked on while he fucked into you. You felt his cock glide to your hole.

“I wanna hear you tell me how my dick feels when I fuck you, baby.” He took his fingers from your mouth to guide himself into your cunt.

Your head flew back, nearly hitting the headboard when he finally thrust himself into you. It took you a moment to come down from the initial wave that jolted through your body. While Steven and Jake were usually fixated on breasts or ass, Marc was stuck with his mouth on your neck, leaving bruising hickeys and forcing pained groans from your lips. You wished he was terrible in bed, at least then you would’ve been able to resist him.

“Tell me baby, say it, please.” Marc was so needy, so desperate for your words, but you weren’t going to give them to him.

“No.” You said in a moan.

He didn’t even look at you, he just kept pushing into you, faster and harder, as though he could fuck the words from your mouth. You liked when Marc got a little rough with you. When Jake was rough, it was methodical, controlled, and intentional; When Marc got rough, he was jagged, unpredictable, and downright messy. He would huff while his skin smacked against yours in repetition, voice becoming more and more wrecked with each thrust.

“You’re gonna play this game, huh?” He lifted his head up and looked at you, lips pressed together tightly, dark brow furrowed.

“Yeah, yeah I am.” You spat back. His hand reached up and gripped your throat. “You gonna start fucking choking me now?”

“As if you need another reason to hate me.” He said between thrusts.

You never expected that more fighting would do you in, that that would be what got you there, but it did. Your body was heating, pooling within your core. You leaned your head back, arched your body upward, you were so close. Then all at once you were empty, Marc pulled out of you, but kept his eyes trained on yours, and his hand around your throat. Asshole.

“Tell me how bad you want it, and maybe I’ll keep going.” He was breathing heavily.

“No.” You whacked his arm away and tried to get up.

You were on the edge of the bed, almost pressing the ball of your foot to the cool wood floor when Marc’s arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you back against his chest. Instinctively you’d spread your legs over his knees. His erection was prodding between your folds. You felt his chest rising and falling against your spine. One of his hands pinched your nipple while the other guided his cock back into your cunt.

“Tell me.” He said softly.

From this position he could easily tease your clit while he fucked upward into you. This angle made him feel deeper, like he filled every bit of your channel, all the way until he couldn’t go any further. You rolled your head back over his shoulder. You hated how intimate this position felt, but you loved how it made your entire body burn.

“F-feels good…” You were practically drooling, and when he started sucking on your neck it was even worse.

“I wanna hear you, keep going.” He grunted and groaned while he kept thrusting into your tight, wet hole.

“You…oh shit…you fuck me so good, please don’t stop.” You begged, nearly crying with the need to feel yourself crashing over his girth.

“That’s right, yeah…” He continued circling his fingers over your swollen clit. “You gonna come for me babe?”

“Yes, yes, please don’t stop M-Marc it feels, oh baby it’s so…” It was coming back again, the heat, the tingling that turned you into a ragdoll.

You felt Marc’s thick cock harden inside of you, and you knew he wasn’t going to deny you this time. His arms tightened and his fingertips pinched your nipple almost to an unbearable point of agony. His other fingers didn’t stop circling though, drawing your orgasm out of you in soft circular motions. You were a panting, crying mess while your walls clamped down over him, and he was no different, groaning and grunting into your ear while he shot his hot spend into you.

“Fuck, baby.” He said as he started coming down from his orgasm.

Once you were both done, and your mind was stabilizing once more, you felt nothing but hatred for yourself, and guilt for what the other two may have witnessed from the headspace. You were sure that Jake knew, but you’d hoped that Steven had managed to get some rest. Without looking back at Marc, trying to avoid your shame, you went to the bathroom and cleaned yourself up. When you looked in the mirror, you were disgusted with the woman looking back. You promised yourself you would never do this, you thought.

When you came back out, Steven was looking back, wearing nothing but his sweats. You sucked in a deep breath, feeling only sorrow. This was it…the point in the road where you had to choose, and you weren’t sure you were strong enough to make that decision, so you were glad when the boys chose for you.

“He…erm…he knows.” Steven said softly. You heard his voice cracking.

“He knows what?” You asked.

“He knows that you have to go, and that you aren’t coming back.” Steven pulled a shirt over his torso. “I’d rather you didn’t go, I’d rather he go but…”

“He can’t.” You helped him finish his sentence.

“Right.” His bottom lip began to quiver.

You knew that the part of Marc that loved you wouldn’t allow for him to completely give up the body while you were present, and therefore the two of you would always be at each other’s throats. You couldn’t have Steven and Jake without Marc, because Marc couldn’t stay away, he just couldn’t, and so you, for your own sake, had to go, and never come back.

“I really am going to miss you, Steven, and Jake.” You walked up and placed a kiss on Steven’s tear stained cheek. “And you too Marc.”

You didn’t turn back around when you left, you didn’t check to make sure that they were ok, you just put your clothes back on, grabbed your keys, and walked out the door. You weren’t sure if your visit to them would have left them saved, or if Marc would continue to spiral and destroy them all, but you couldn’t stay, that much you knew for sure, no matter how much it pained you to go.

You had to do what was best for you for once, even if it nearly killed you.

AO3 LINK

TAGLIST (please let me know if you would like to be added or removed): @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction, @my-secret-shame, @thatmomwitchfriend, @alexxavicry, @welcometostayingawake, @jake-g-lockley, @campingwiththecharmings, @steven-grants-world, @lia275, @minigirl87, @ahookedheroespureheart, @ninebluehearts, @in-between-the-cafes

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #comment reblog

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melodygatesauthor · 28 days

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Eeee you're so sweet! The same goes to you!! <3 Thank you, I needed this pick-me-up!

#melody answers #moots

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melodygatesauthor · 29 days

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Eeeee ty so much!!!

The Only One

Dark - Duke Leto Atreides X f!Reader

Not Beta Read

PLEASE READ TAGS/DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS FIC. THERE ARE DARK THEMES!

Summary

The duke needs an heir, or Caladan will fall under the rule of his enemies. There's one woman is capable of saving the planet...she's the only one.

Tags/Warnings

Disclaimers: This fic does not comply with canon, throw everything you thought you knew about the Dune lore out the window. The duke is (in my opinion) in character for this situation, despite the obsessive tendencies. There is heavy non-con in this fic, it's not for everyone. If you're sensitive to that sort of thing in fanfiction, please keep on scrolling thanks. NSFW, non-con, rape, kidnapping, sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, praise kink, lactation kink, pregnancy, blood kink, cockwarming, forced pregnancy, non-consensual bondage, porn with some plot, smut, creampie, body worship, pregnant sex, oral sex (f receiving), Dark fic, Dark Duke Leto Atreides. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT (that means that what you see in the tags WILL be in the fic, don't act surprised when you get exactly what you were warned about.)

Word Count: 6k

Prelude

After many years of trying for an heir, Duke Leto has begun to give up hope. Without an heir, the emperor threatens to give away his birthright, strip him of his title, and hand Caladan to his enemies. He has been given only one final year to produce a son who will carry on his family name. While searching for someone who could give him what he needs, he happens upon a mysterious woman. The strange woman tells of a prophecy, one that Leto takes very seriously, because he has no other choice. "In a village, not far from here, my lord, there's a girl. She is not of noble birth, but I have seen her future, and she will give you many sons." Duke Leto, a kind and gentle man, would never hurt someone so innocent on purpose, but when faced with the choice of taking you, or losing Caladan to those who meant to oppress it, he must set aside his morality for the greater good...

The duke entered his chambers where you were suspended from the lofty ceiling, as he’d requested his men to do once they found you. A warm smile spread across his face at the sight of you, so beautiful, so scared. Leto stepped forward, nearly jumping when your head shot up and your tear-stained eyes locked on with his. He held one hand behind his back in a regal manner, holding the other out to touch your cheek as he closed in on you slowly.

“W-wh…” you cleared your throat, “where…”

“Shh,” he whispered softly, brushing his thumb over the soft skin of your beautiful face, “you’re safe now. There’s no need to panic.”

Despite his words, it was clear you were terrified, struggling to breath in a normal, even heave. No matter the fear you displayed in your eyes, the duke’s expression remained calm, and filled with adoration.

“I know you’re frightened. It is…expected,” he said softly, standing up straight and casually walking to his wardrobe. “Would you care for some wine perhaps? Or I can call for the doctor, he could provide you with a mild sedative?”

He turned to look at you, your head was hung downward once again, naked body trembling and rattling the chains that held you in place. He wasn’t a cruel man, though he suspected you thought he was. He’d never done something like this before, sending his guards out to retrieve a young woman to keep in his chambers indefinitely. A nearly inaudible sob escaped your lips.

“No need to cry my dear, you’re not in any danger,” he said, beginning to unbuckle his belt, the sound of the metal piercing through the room. “In fact, you’re going to be very well taken care of here. Do you have any idea just how lucky you are?”

You cried harder, sobs becoming even louder as you looked up at him again. He removed his shirt, revealing his warm, sunkissed skin. It was hard to tell, but he appeared handsome through the blur of your tears. You dropped your head again, your neck aching from the position you were in. Your arms were pinned behind your back, body bent forward at the hips, leaving your rear exposed and open. Your thighs ached, legs spread wide, forced open by a metal pole secured between your knees. The ache in your chest from your labored breathing was horrid enough, only made worse by the chains wrapped around you, keeping your torso held upward and parallel to the stone floor.

“You don’t even realize that you are the most important piece to maintaining our way of life of Caladan,” he continued, removing his pants completely and letting them fall to the ground. “I have been unable to find anyone compatible. Perhaps it’s that my genetics are too much for the average woman to carry to term.” He stepped closer to you, cock bobbing heavily with every stride. “But you’re not average, are you my dear?”

“P-please,” you croaked, “I…I…”

“No no, not another word. You’re frightened now, yes, but you’ll soon realize the important work that you were made for,” he walked past you, running his hand along your arm and to your hip as he did. “The important job you’ll be doing for me…”

You whimpered, struggling slightly against your restraints but to no avail. The duke used to pride himself on being an honorable man, and even in this morally reprehensible moment, he felt justified in his actions. He didn’t always like what his duty called him to do, but knowing it was for the greater good, he would do almost anything.

“You see my dear,” he cooed, “you were found for me, a beautiful, fertile woman who is prophesied to give me many children…” he leaned into your ear, “many.” His tone turned to a low rumble. “So even though this may seem sudden, you will realize with time that you’re fulfilling your purpose…your destiny.”

His right palm splayed over the globe of your cheek, moving toward where your body was spread in two. He didn’t like hearing you cry, but he knew it was inevitable. No normal girl would consent to being abducted and restrained in a man’s bedroom, not even the duke’s bedroom. He saw your puckered hole, and he pressed his index finger to it gently, inciting a gasp from you, followed by the rattling of the chains. You cried out, begging him to release you, but your wails fell on deaf ears.

“I know you care about Caladan, our people. I know you care about the Atreides legacy, and you know…” he spit between your crack, letting his warm saliva trickle from your rim down between your folds, “you know I need a strong, healthy heir.”

Leto positioned himself behind you, using his hand to fist the fat tip of his cock at your glistening entrance. The metal pole keeping your legs spread for him creaked with tension as you struggled to close your thighs, a pointless endeavor. He sighed heavily, gliding his head between each crevice of your pretty little cunt, making himself slick with your arousal.

“You must think me to be a cruel man, but you’re mistaken darling. I don’t want to hurt you, and if you’ll relax this will be much less painful for you.” His breath was ragged with an almost animalistic desire. “You must understand, however, that I care far too much about the future of my people not to provide them with an Atreides heir.”

No matter how hard you tried to escape the flesh splitting thrust of his wide girth, your attempts were futile. A pained scream echoed off the walls of his chambers, followed shortly by the warmth of your blood against his thighs as he slapped them against yours loudly. He wasn’t trying to hurt you, but he wanted to get your first time over with, and not drag it out any longer than necessary. He slowed down after a moment, once your screaming turned to soft whimpers.

“You’re doing so well…” he huffed through his nostrils harshly “…I know this isn’t easy for you,” Leto leaned forward, grabbing one of your hanging breasts in his large hand, pinching the nipple gently, “b-but your body was built for this…it was built for me…”

“No, n-no…” you trailed off, feeling your head fall back down, neck aching still from the strain. A small moan left your lips, despite your attempts to keep it in.

“O-oh sweetheart is…is it starting to feel good?” The roll of his hips remained at a steady pace. “That’s wonderful, it will help with the pain, and your time will be more enjoyable for you if you can gain some pleasure from this as well, I don’t want you to feel misery if I can help it.”

“S-stop, please, my lord…”

“Shh,” he whispered softly, continuing to palm at your breast.

He leaned forward, pressing his lips against the soft skin of your spine. He could feel your tied-back hands fidgeting against his ribcage. His free hand moved to your left hip, holding it tightly to angle himself deeper.

“I’m going to fill you with every bit of me , every-single-drop,” he punctuated each word with a harder thrust. “I need to make sure you get it all, need to make sure it takes…mmph!”

Surely your noisy whimpers could be heard in the halls, yet no one came to help you. They all knew what was happening in there. You were to be the mother of the next Atreides heir. You would be made to bear child after child for the legacy obsessed duke. A breeding vessel for a desperate nobleman, torn between his kind nature and his need for the security and wellbeing of his people.

“The emperor will take everything I have if I can't secure my bloodline. He’ll give it t-to the…” he whimpered and gulped deeply, “Harkonnens, and I can’t let that happen to my people.”

You could hear nothing over your whimpers save for the wet slapping of his skin against yours as his pace quickened. You didn’t know what he was going on about - destiny, legacy, an Atreides heir? - He snapped forward again, a gravelly rumble falling from his chest. He moved to an upright position, letting your breast hang loosely once more. You wailed loudly, the feeling of his thick fingers leaving their impressions in the flesh of your hip.

“M-my lord, my lord…it hurts so…s-so-much-s-sir!”

“I know, but you’re taking me so well anyway aren’t you?” He looked down where your puffy little hole swallowed his crimson painted cock. “Look at that.”

His index finger touched where you were stretched around him, that little bit of skin that held onto his cock like it never meant to let go. You whimpered, chains rattling around you as your body involuntarily moved, only serving to sink you down further on his length once more. He could hear you hyperventilating, a panic-stricken whine punching out of your chest that he felt a tad guilty for inciting.

Until he remembered what your purpose was…the reason he’d had you brought to his castle in the first place.

He reached an arm around your leg, sinking the pad of his finger into the wet, bloody mess between the slippery lips of your cunt. In the sea of your arousal, he found the swollen bud that made your walls flutter around him. You gasped, and seemingly on their own, his hips slid forward, chasing that delicious feeling of your body finally accepting him, pulling him deeper inside.

“You like that don’t you?” He bit his lip, a breathy chuckle escaping through his teeth with the knowledge that he’d found a way to settle your terror, if only for a moment. “I promise, no matter how terrible this may be, that I won’t allow you to stay like this…and-s-suffer-oh-my…”

He felt your body squeezing tighter, walls contracting around his cock. He thrust forward again, shuddering at the way you were taking him, pulling him deeper, like your body was begging for his cum, like you needed him to feed your hole until you were stuffed and overflowing.

“Mmm-m-my-lord…p-please–”

Your tone was different now, more sultry and full of desire. It was good to hear you like that, moaning instead of crying, grunting with pleasure instead of pain. This would be so much better for you once you gave in, he knew that much. He could give you everything: make your body shake with orgasm after orgasm, clothes made from the finest silks, and comforts that were reserved for only the lords and ladies of Caladan.

“Your pleas don’t go unnoticed sweetheart, don’t think me cruel, I wouldn’t do this if the circumstances were different,” he huffed, breathing becoming more ragged with every glide of his hips. “I need you…Caladan needs you–needs-you-full-ah!”

The smooth roll of his hips slowed as his seed spilled into you. You felt it, warm and slick as it coated your insides white. You felt a sensation you’d never felt, rolling over your entire body and pooling in your core, causing your legs to shake and your mind to go blank. It was euphoric; a reprieve from the pain you’d endured for what felt like hours, but couldn’t have been more than several minutes.

Leto felt your pussy walls squeezing, crushing down over his girth in waves while you moaned. What a sweet sound, one that made him feel mental relief that he’d given you something in return for your suffering. His finger slowed around your hardened clit, letting you come down slowly from your high.

As your pleasured whines subsided, you thought he would remove himself from you, letting your hole relax after such an ordeal, but he didn’t. The duke stayed there, hips pressed flush against your rear, making no motion to release you from his hold. You moved slightly, but he gripped tightly on your hips, keeping you firmly in place.

“No, no darling, no.” His voice was calm but raspy, still settling after his climax. “I’m going to stay like this for a moment longer, just to make sure it takes. We wouldn’t want to waste it.”

He looked down, seeing the way your body had bled on his, coating his pubic hair in a deep red shade. He felt for you, truly he did, but once you realized what an honor it was to be in your position, he knew you’d find it was worth the sacrifice. Your breathing was slowing, going back to normal, and after several moments he pulled back, letting his limp cock fall from where it had torn you open.

You groaned, feeling yourself become empty all at once. Your head hung down, neck finally too tired to hold it up any longer. You heard the duke tsk behind you, his palms pressing against your cheeks and spreading them further. The sound of dripping cum on the floor echoed through the room.

“Let’s keep it all inside, sweet one, I need you to give me a son,” he pushed his spend back inside you with his finger, what little was still there and had not fallen to the floor.

You winced and hissed, the metal holding you in place rattling once more. His thick middle-finger slid in deep, Leto shuddered as your hole clenched in response. He could hear you crying, a soft, defeated sound he wished one day would stop. But he couldn’t expect that from you, not now as he broke you in for the first time. He expected you would be like this for a while until you were used to him, used to his size, used to the way he kept you as full as possible, as often as possible.

“Your body handled me very, very well darling,” he said, idly fingering you as he spoke, continuing to push his spend back inside you. “Looks like I’ve made quite the mess of you, but don’t worry, I’ll have you cleaned up in a moment.”

He kept true to his word, once he was thoroughly satisied he’d kept his cum in you long enough, the duke turned onto his back, positioned himself between your thighs, and propped himself up on his elbows so his lips could reach your cunt with ease. A gasp shot from your lungs, the feeling of his warm mouth enveloping your sore folds bringing comfort to the ache. You moaned, a sound that represented more than just sexual pleasure, but a sound that told him you were at least accepting your fate…for the moment.

He was right, there was no more fighting, and it was clear your words weren’t going to change his goal oriented mind. His desire to have an heir was stronger than his desire to act honorably. His tongue went flat, you felt it soothing the tear of your hymen, then dragging upward and flicking once it reached the peak of your folds. You exhaled a sigh, cunt throbbing in response to the way he lapped at you masterfully.

“You know not many,” he kissed your pussy lips, “can say,” another peck, “they’ve been lucky enough to carry such an important role for Caladan. Even I’m not as important as you are right now.”

His hand reached up and pressed against your stomach while his mouth continued to melt into your cunt, soothing you even more as he cleaned you. He never felt such pride as he did in that moment, knowing that this was a good effort, even if it didn’t take. The sheer amount that he ate from you, in combination with his already discarded seed on the floor underneath him, gave the duke a sense of relief to know that he was producing sufficiently on his end. It wouldn’t take long for you to give him a healthy child, if you were indeed the girl the old woman had told him about.

You whimpered still when his tongue would touch your wound, though it was always followed with the relief of him dragging it over your clit. He slurped quietly as he continued, not making an indication that he would be stopping any time soon, despite the likelihood of you being clean already. The hand on your stomach moved, reaching up and cupping your breast, holding it and squeezing softly.

“Oh, my lord, y-yes…”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t deny the heat pooling at the base of your abdomen once again. Was it even worth trying to deny the way it felt? He was the Duke of Caladan after all. If he wanted a hundred concubines tied up to his ceiling he could take them, and no one would stop him. You should be grateful it was he who took you, and not someone who might’ve been much more cruel in their claiming of your body.

He hummed into your folds, breathing heavily through his nose as he did. His hand slid over to your waist, gripping around you and holding tight. The vibration from his moans, and the brush of his peppery beard against your thighs was causing your body to near release once more. That would only be the second time in your life that you’d felt it, and you wanted it more than you could bear.

“Mm, let yourself go my dear, I only want you to feel good from now on, now that I broke you in a little.”

His mouth never left your cunt as he spoke, his words only serving to draw your next climax from your body faster. You felt it fall over you, warm and heavy, making your body melt once more, going limp save for the involuntary crashing of your walls around the emptiness the duke had left behind. He didn’t stop until he was sure you were fully satisfied, head hanging down again and breathing returned to normal.

With a grunt he rose from beneath you. You heard him padding on his bare feet to the wardrobe on the far side of the room. If you turned your head just a little you could see him, much clearer now than before. He looked at you as he put a loose cotton shirt over his shoulders, then leaning down to pull his trousers over his legs.

“You’re simply the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said in a gentle baritone, moving back to kneel in front of you. “I do not kneel for many, but I’ll kneel for the mother of my children.”

You strained your neck to look at him once again. He cupped your cheeks to help you, seeing your struggle and feeling sorry for the part he played in your suffering. He kissed your forehead, feeling the salt from your sweaty brow upon his lips.

“I’ll return every day, at least until I’m sure you’re pregnant,” his lips curled into a compassionate smirk, “then I’ll let you rest while your belly grows.”

He stood, striding to the washroom and leaving you hanging there, like a prized animal on display. Before long, the same men who’d captured you returned, undoing most of your bonds, save for the ones holding your hands behind your back. They weren’t rough, just like before when they’d abducted you. You felt your entire body sigh, your bones and muscles feeling relieved to fall back into place.

You weren’t sure when exactly you’d conceived. It must’ve happened at some point between that first time when he tore you apart, and the following month when your period didn’t arrive when it should’ve. By then you’d become, not unlike, a piece of furniture in Duke Leto’s chambers, restraints much less restrictive and painful than your first meeting. Only a week after he’d broken you, you’d become more willing for him, crying less when he came to take you.

“I don’t want you to feel like a prisoner here, despite your situation, and since you’ve become so compliant, I think I can afford to make you more comfortable,” he’d explained.

And so he had you moved to the bed. Though you weren’t completely free. That was a risk the duke could not afford. So he had metal cuffs around your wrists, and chains that connected them to the stone wall behind the bed. You could move easier, but you could never leave.

When another week went by, two weeks after your torment began, he was swelling with pride, seeing you spreading your legs upon his entry into his chambers without prompt. You said you appreciated the silken evening dress he’d had the servants craft for you, the one that fell open on either side of your hips when you presented your cunt to him. He wasn’t supposed to love you - it wasn’t necessary for him to love you - but he felt himself overwhelmed with feelings he couldn’t contain every time he saw you.

Three weeks after that first meeting, you kissed him. It was clear he’d been holding back, allowing you to maintain some level of autonomy, despite having taken your body for himself so many times. He couldn’t, and wouldn’t, force you to be intimate with him if that wasn’t what you wished.

So it was a shock when he was several moments into fucking you, cock sliding wetly along your walls in a desperation to fill you with him again, and you grabbed his face on either side. His hooded eyes shot up, meeting with yours but then quickly flicking down to see your precious lips closing in. You closed your eyes, and so did he, and everything seemed to slow down for a moment, including the pace that he thrust into you.

The slow roll of his hips was heavenly, and was soon accompanied by the feeling of his hand on the back of your head, pulling you deeper into the kiss, gliding his tongue inside your mouth so he could taste you. The duke filled you faster than ever that night, being so engulfed in the moment that he couldn’t hold on any longer.

And now, it was just over a month beyond your arrival to Castle Caladan, you were sitting with the physician while he examined you, confirming that yours and the duke’s efforts had been fruitful.

The way Leto looked at you in that moment, was a look you’d never seen before. His dark brows turned up and stitched together, soft lips parted just before a smirk curled over them. He held your chin between his thumb and forefinger, the glossy sheen of tears apparent in his eyes.

“After years of trying to produce an heir, I finally found a perfect vessel, such a precious thing,” he cooed, touching your stomach before leaning in and finding your lips with his own. “My most wonderful treasure.”

Leto heard nothing else as the doctor murmured about you, voice seeming background to where his focus lied. Part of him was still shocked that the old woman was right. She told him in his search of her prophecy that you, a normal village girl, would produce many sons for him, and she was right.

That night, the duke did everything he could for you. His kisses were softer, less desperate and more deliberate. His hands didn’t grab your flesh as a means to hold you, but rather to feel you. And when he sunk his cock into you, he did so in a way that emphasized your pleasure over his own, angling for those spots that made your body quiver.

You may not have been of noble birth, but to the duke, that night you were his empress. There wasn’t an inch of your skin that hadn’t been brushed by the coarse hair of his bearded chin. He worshiped you, giving you an evening dedicated to only your satisfaction.

For many weeks he would come into his chambers and ramble on about how proud he was, and how well you were doing. He would whisper the most depraved, while beautiful, things in your ear about how the people of Caladan owed you their lives, and how he couldn’t wait until it was time to breed you all over again. All of that praise was nothing though, not compared to the way he looked at you after coming back from his trip to Arrakis.

When he walked into his chambers, and you were there on his bed, only a couple short months away from birth, he stopped dead in his tracks. He felt like the words were trapped in his throat, and his feet were stuck to the floor. All he could do was stare, and take in the beauty before him. You were simply radiant, pregnant belly full with his son, his heir; swelling breasts nearly spilling out of your dress.

Once he found the ability to move again he slowly walked over to you, taking off his coat as he sat beside you.

“Look at you…” his voice trailed off.

“Hello my lord,” you greeted softly.

His hand reached for yours, and he was quickly reminded that you’d been a captive there, metal cuffs still wrapped around your wrists, rattling as he held you. He felt a pang in his chest, wanting desperately to release you. Every time the thought crossed his mind though, he worried you would run. You didn’t seem like you would try to leave, having become much more docile since your arrival months ago. There was also the glaring fact that you were pregnant, and it wouldn’t be easy for you to get away even if you managed to pass every one of the guards who might see you before reaching the doors of Leto’s home.

There was always that small chance though, no matter how slim, that you would leave. It was a risk he couldn’t afford to take.

He looked back at your body, eyes wide and trained on your stomach. The duke leaned in, kissing just above your navel, a satisfied hum escaping his lungs as he did. It was hard not to like him, and that was what you hated about him the most. The man was dedicated to his people, to his title, and his legacy more than anything. The longer you were around him, and the more time you’d spent under his care, the more you’d begun to understand your purpose within his walls.

The idea of the Harkonnens, or any other house for that matter, claiming the right to Caladan, should House Atreides produce no heir, was a frightful one. He broke you from your thoughts, eyes trailing up your chest and to your eyes. Your breath caught in your throat, he looked so handsome, lips slightly parted with a few stray hairs falling into his dark eyes. Despite holding you captive for the sole purpose of breeding an heir from you, you’d begun to fall for Leto Atreides, against all odds.

“My sweet girl, my darling, you’re doing so well, growing my child in your womb. I couldn’t have asked for a better woman to give me a son, to give House Atreides its heir,” he whispered, cupping your cheek, bringing his forehead to yours. “I’ve been disappointed so many times.”

“Thank you my lo-”

“No sweetheart, no, shh…” he pressed a finger to your lips gently before replacing it with a tender kiss, “you should be worshiped by Caladan, it's people…I want to worship you.”

His hand grabbed at your waist, pulling you against him into a deeper kiss. You felt his growing arousal against your thigh, followed by an involuntary rut of his hips. You whined, trying not to be bothered by the incessant ache in your chest, your engorged tits becoming too heavy and painful to bear. It was hard to focus on the duke’s soothing touch when you felt such discomfort.

He stopped kissing you, looking at you with concern, “are you alright sweet one?” His eyes trailed to your tits, “are they sore? Oh you poor thing.”

You nodded and whimpered, wincing as he pulled one of your straps down and pulled a heavy breast from its confines. Your puffy nipple had a bead of white sitting on it, threatening to trickle down the mound. His pink tongue darted out, lapping up the milk that nearly fell from your breast, and humming in approval of its taste.

“Let me help you my dear,” he said softly, leaning in and latching his mouth over your chest.

You gasped at first, the coarse brush of his beard stinging against the sensitive skin, but it very quickly gave way to a much better, more soothing sensation. You sighed in relief, feeling him suckling at your flesh, drawing out the milk that had been causing your breasts to swell beyond belief. He moaned against your skin, rolling his hips idly as he did. This was very unusual for him, to be so needy and desperate for you, clinging onto your body the way he was.

In the past, Leto would’ve just taken you if he wanted to, but with your body so soft and full with his child, he would resist. Of course he knew you could take it, you weren’t made of glass, but he wanted to give you nothing but comfort, emptying you instead of filling you with more than he already had in the past. He felt your hand reach up and grab the back of his head, delicate fingers massaging between his peppery locks.

“Mm, my darling, so sweet,” he muttered against your tit, a little milk dribbling down his lips.

You felt his hips moving more, now more deliberate before, as though he were accepting of his primal urges to find release, rather than suppress it, but still unwilling to ask you for help.

“It’s alright my lord, you haven’t…mmph…you haven’t been satisfied in some time. Do what you must.”

Even though he was trying to remain stoic and refined, your permission was all he needed to throw all that aside. With his free hand he tugged at his belt, keeping his lips pursed around your nipple as he did. You heard the unmistakable clanking and rattling metal as he found success, pulling the leather from the loops and tossing it to the ground. His dexterous fingers then made quick work of his pants, pulling them to his thighs.

Leto Atreides was a nobleman, not one to give in to such animalistic delights so easily, but something about drinking from your chest, and how perfect you were serving him and his house with your pregnancy made him feral for you. His hands were shaking as he tried to bring his cock to your hole. He’d done it so many times before, why was he struggling now?

“Sir…” you pushed him off your breast, biting your lip at the sight of him as he looked up at you.

His eyes were hooded, milk-drunk and heavy. The lips that had been suckling for a while were now pink, puffy, and covered in a white, glossy sheen. You lifted your leg, sliding yourself into a position that you were both parallel to one another. You wrapped your leg around his hip, angling his fat tip to your slippery entrance.

“You’re too precious, too g-good…oh…” His hips stuttered forward, opening you wide around his cock once again.

You hadn’t been with him in so long, your body had nearly forgotten how to take him. You winced, needing to readjust once again, but he was patient, holding himself flush against your hips while your walls moved aside for his girth. He let out, what sounded like, a low growl as he mouthed at your neglected tit. His hips remained in place, making no attempt to retreat, nor to glide in further. His cock rested there contentedly, throbbing every now and then.

He gulped, humming into your breast as he drank more, the ache in your chest slowly subsiding with every moment that passed. Eventually he moved his hips lazily, pulling back after a time before rolling back forward.

What the duke was feeling with you in that moment was more than a simple sex act. What he felt now was comfort, his cock buried in your soaking, slippery heat, and his lips pursed around your nipple. Leto swirled his tongue in a slow roll over your peaked mound, taking a moment to inhale several shaky breaths before going in for more.

The way he drew more and more milk out of you was causing your body to relax further, your walls becoming more open to his slow movements and deep strokes. A low moan escaped you, forcing his eyes to shoot up, still so dark in their feral hunger. You tugged his hair, forcing him to pull off your breast with a loud pop. Without hesitation, you kissed him, filling your mouth with a combination of your sweet fluids and the duke’s own signature taste

“You’re like no other. Not a day goes by that I don’t want to hold you close sweetheart…”

He brushed his nose against yours, eyes moving slowly from your lips, to your eyes, and back again. A swell of emotion poured through him, his desires going beyond just wanting to give you his seed, but it was something more. Your last name…it was wrong. He never wanted to take a wife, in fact, he’d vowed never to do such a thing, but you’d changed the very fiber of his being from the moment he’d found you.

“After my son is born, I’ll give you the best gift I can, the only gift I can give a woman of such importance…oh my…g…”

The duke lost himself, holding you tightly against him, though careful not to squeeze against your stomach too harshly. His choked moans vibrated against your chest while he filled you, pumping your body with his cum once again. You felt your own climax wash over your body, inspired by his own, drawing everything it could from him as it did, both of you a trembling, moaning mess.

He sighed with contentment after his mind cleared. He looked at you once more.

“I’m going to keep you,” he kissed your lips breathlessly, “I’m going to keep you here with me. I’m going to give you my name, and until the day I die you’ll be mine, my precious thing.” He pecked you again, and then pressed his lips to your stomach.

“I can’t wait to have your name, sir, and to be able to walk around the castle freely,” you said softly.

Leto’s blood ran cold.

Walk around freely…

Perhaps you’d misunderstood him, in fact, he was certain of it. He could see how his words may have been misconstrued. Evidently he would need to be more clear with you. The duke’s gaze darkened when he looked back into your eyes.

“My sweet girl.” He cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead. “Until the day you are barren, I cannot risk any harm to you, nor your body.” His words were chilling, but his gaze was warm.

“You’ll never leave this room, so long as I can help it.”

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